


Dreaming is Sinking

by orphan_account



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Background Relationships, F!Protaganist, Modified personalities, Multi, Polygamy, Slow Burn, Still the same characters you know and love though, Trigger Warnings: Suicidal Thoughts & Depression & Self harm & homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 64,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14251338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Monika awakens in a hospital, her head pounding and her memories scattered. After weeks in a coma, she's forced to accept that the reality she'd dreamed - of the literature club, of her popularity, all of it was fake, just part of her broken mind. Now she must accept a new, uncomfortable reality, one that's real, yet one that doesn't offer much hope.Inspired by a picture off of Reddit.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's the image that inspired this madness.](https://www.reddit.com/r/DDLC/comments/8ahxzo/monika_wakes_up/)
> 
> Points to anyone who recognizes what the name of the story is from (it's a really good album). 
> 
> In case no one read the tags, trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, depression, and homophobia.

Monika’s head pounded, a persistent dull throb that simply wouldn’t relent. Her eyes stung against the bright light above her. _White._ The walls were white, the ceiling, the floor, even the curtains that failed to block out the sun. She’d never hated the sun as much as she did now.

Her ears were full of a sharp ringing that drowned out her own breathing. _Where am I?_ She craned her neck around, recoiled at the burning around her throat. As she reached for the bandages clung tightly around her neck, she was aware of the faint beeping of a heart monitor beside her. It only made her head ache more, if that were possible. She craned her head more carefully this time, slowing her pace, and her eyes set upon the bright, green lines of the screen off to her bedside. She watched the line bounce with her heartbeat, speeding up as she realized she was in a hospital. _Why?_

She yawned, tried and failed to stretch. When she went to rub the sleep from her eyes, she saw the bandages around her wrists, rising up around the forearms, and the stinging underneath. Carefully, she tried to peel back the soft white fabric around her wrist, peered underneath it and saw the dark red scabs covering small, narrow slices in the skin. Fainter scars of pink surrounded them, all somewhat the same size.

Had she been attacked? She felt at her throat again, rubbed at the bandages that wrapped all the way around to the back of her neck and the top ridges of her spine. Whatever wound underneath there, the burning, stitched wound, wrapped all around. _Almost like a rope. Almost like…_

Somewhere, a door opened and closed, the slamming sound sending shockwaves through her already pounding brain. She hissed and slammed her eyes shut against the light. _Everything hurts._ Footsteps pattered around, stopping in front of her bed, and someone began writing on paper. Monika opened her eyes slightly, stared through the slits at someone wearing cherry hospital scrubs.

“Who…” Her voice failed her. Her throat was dry, her lips chapped, and her tongue struggled against her. “Who are you?” She tried again. The words were slurred, and the vibration in her throat only deepened the burn in her neck and rocked her brain. _Pain when I speak. Wonderful._

The woman at the edge of the bed, the nurse, looked up from the clipboard in her hands, eyes wide with surprise. “You’re talking now?” A slight smile tugged at her lips.

“What?” Monika sat up, opened her eyes the rest of the way, fighting against the bright, florescent lights hanging from the ceiling.

“Normally you just groan, or stare at me like I’m a zombie or something,” the nurse said, her voice far too loud and cheery. Monika suppressed the urge to tell the nurse to shut up. “How do you feel?”

“My head hurts. My eyes hurt. It hurts when I talk.” Monika droned on. Her words were still slightly slurred. “Why am I here?”

The nurse slid a chair beside the bed, the wood scraping against the tile floor all too loudly. Monika nearly screamed from the jolt of pain caused by the clipboard falling to the ground while the nurse said her sorries, though saying ‘sorry’ only made her head _worse._

“You had an… incident,” the nurse finally said once situated. Her expression was blank. “Do you remember anything? At all?”

Monika slid back down the bed, letting her back rest and her eyes close. _What did I do last?_ She’d been sitting in some kind of room, a single desk in front of her, swirls of color outside the windows. Someone sat across from her… _who?_ She couldn’t recall a face. She couldn’t even recall why she had been there. Had she been at school? She’d run a literature club, she knew that, though the membership was a bit limited. _What were their names?_ One started with a _Y,_ she knew that much. _Yu- something._ She rubbed at her temples. _Why can’t I remember?_

“I was at school, I think,” Monika said after a few long moments. “But it’s all so fuzzy... “

The nurse hummed, nodded, and wrote something in her clipboard. When she set her pen down, she sighed, her blank expression dropping into a frown. “There’s not much of an easy way to say this, so I'll just let the doctor explain everything. Just sit tight hun.” The nurse climbed out of the chair, pushed it back to where it was. “Do you need anything?” she turned and asked at the door.

“Turn off the fucking lights,” Monika hissed with far more aggression than she intended. A second later, the bright white aura from above shut off, and Monika was able to open her eyes all the way. _Though the sun doesn’t seem content to go away._

For just a moment, she considered chiding the sun about being bright.

She turned in her bed, adjusting the pillows behind her so they weren’t pressing into the back of her neck. The vague image of a coarse, brown rope flashed through her mind. At first, she saw someone hanging from it, a loop tied around their neck, brightly shaded hair atop their head, but the image faded almost as soon as she tried to examine it. She frowned at nothing. _Why can’t I remember anything?_

She closed her eyes again, trying to will the throbbing in her head away. _Sayori._ The name echoed through her mind. A friend at school, maybe. _A member of the literature club._ Two faces fought for dominance over the name; one wearing a ribbon through her pink shaded hair, the same that was strung from the rope in her head, yet the other wore darker, auburn hair, lacking a ribbon. The former was kind, a bit aloof, always making Monika laugh, yet the latter was more guarded, sometimes looking at Monika with a pained expression in her eyes. _Two faces for the same name._ It hurt her head even more.

Monika had been the head of the literature club, right? She remembered standing at the head of the classroom, addressing three faces, one of which was the shifting face of Sayori. Yet another image flashed through her mind, of someone with dark black hair standing there, staring at Monika with a scowl drawn on her face, a dozen other sets of eyes set upon her. She shook the image away. _So many memories fighting each other, so many memories conflicting with one another. What’s wrong with my head?_

The door opened and closed again, albeit much softer this time. Monika opened her eyes. A man came in, stood at the foot of her bed, a fake smile planted upon his aged face. A stereotypical white jacket was adorned over his shoulders, a nametag reading _Robert Anderson, Trauma and Counseling_ pinned to the breast. He looked over Monika.

“The nurse said you were awake,” he said, his voice low and hushed. Monika said nothing, and Robert only hummed. “I’m Doctor Robert. I’ve been your doctor since you arrived. How do you feel? You head hurts, no doubt.”

“Worst headache of my life,” Monika whispered. _Robert._ Quite an English name. Didn’t she live in Japan?

“I’ll up the dose on the pain meds. Should help a bit,” Robert said as he wrote something on a pad of paper in his hand. “The nurse said you don’t remember much of the incident.”

“Incident,” Monika echoed. “Was I attacked?”

“No.” The doctor sighed as he sat on the side of the bed. He started, closed his mouth and looked out the window for a moment, then turned back to her. His eyes were wary, eyebrows worked with nervousness. “You attempted suicide, we believe. You attempted to hang yourself, but the rope snapped and you hit your head against something.” His voice was soft, like a parent breaking bad news to their young child, and his eyes stayed fixed on her.

The image of the rope flashed again. Monika shivered. She had pulled the rope tight around her neck, tight enough to constrict her breathing, to suffocate her. Then she’d jumped, like the webpage had said. _Only the rope snapped…_

“You have a traumatic brain injury. Your memory loss and headaches are effects of it.” The doctor ran a hand through his short, blonde hair. “Your dad found you, and the paramedics saved you before you... passed. You’ve been here ever since, two months of stillness.”

“I…” Monika paused. Her breaths were shallow, her heartbeat fast, and her nails scratched at her wrists, digging into the bandages. The doctor brought a hand over, pulled Monika’s nails away. “I… why? Why would I…?”

More images flashed through her mind. Assorted memories of blank faces shouting slurs and insults at her. Her failed attempts at talking to others, of making friends. The argument with the head of the literature club when she tried to join and was rejected. The horrible depression, the feeling of wanting to go to sleep and never wake up, all of it flooded her. She fought back tears, both from the memories, and from the worsening pounding in her brain.

But none of it matched up. She’d been _popular,_ hadn’t she? She was the head of the literature club! Her own little experiment! She remembered friends laughing at jokes she’d told, remembered reading poetry with the rest of her club. She remembered being the best runner in her school. She remembered… she remembered…

_Realizing it was all fake. It was all a built up reality, something created by someone other than her._ Everyone around her was fake, acting as a stupid trope or cliche, programmed to like her, programmed to be her friend. _Fake!_ She’d fought so hard to escape. _Why was it fake? What made it?_

“You were in a coma,” the doctor said, almost as though reading her thoughts. “We kept you as stable as possible, but we feared the damage on your brain was too severe. It’s good to see we were wrong.”

_A coma._ She’d made the reality for herself. An isolated world, a place for her to live and be free.

“I want to go back…” she muttered. Robert tilted his head. “I w-want to go back,” she said louder.

“Back to where?” Robert furrowed a brow.

_It wasn’t real. There’s no going back._ Monika fell silent. She slid her eyes shut and laid back against the bed, trying to fight against the pain rocking her head, her neck, her wrists and arms, and the depression welling inside her.

“Where are my parents?” She settled on asking. She couldn’t remember her parents in the other reality. Had she even had a home? All she recalled was school, and the blank faces she couldn’t put names too.

“We’ve called your dad up. He’ll be here soon, I think.” The doctor wrote something else down in his notepad, then clicked his pen and stood up from the bed, his ankles cracking as he moved toward the door. “I’ll check back with you later. Try and get some rest, the nurse should be by soon with your meds.”

Monika finally broke down, alone in the room, surrounded by the beeping of the heart monitor. Tears welled down her cheeks, her sobs came out dry and hoarse, and someone might as well have been smashing her head in with a metal bat, but the crying made her feel slightly better. _A fake reality built up by a sad, pathetic girl._ She was torn between crying more and laughing at the thought.

_Maybe it won’t be that bad here. Maybe everything can work out._ Yet the images of people throwing food at her during lunch as she crowded alone against a far wall broke that thought in half. _What did I do to earn such ire?_

Slurs ran through her mind, almost as an answer. _Dyke. Fag. Queer._ Voices, all kinds of them, pelted her mind, faceless figures shouting at her in the halls, girls freaking out in the bathrooms as they called her a pervert, the men teasing her, harassing her.

_Oh._

Monika wanted to cry again. That wasn’t something that could just be waved away, something she could try and fix. She didn’t screw up, didn’t say something on accident. She just _was,_ and it seemed that would be enough. Rage flooded her, mixing with the depression, and she nearly started scratching at her skin again.

The door opened, and to Monika it seemed to slam shut. She recoiled and her eyes shot open. The nurse from before stood at the side of her bed, a cup in each hand, a fake smile perched on her lips. She held one of the cups out, the smaller one, and Monika took it from her, examining the three small blue capsules inside. The other cup was filled with water.

“They’ll help your head,” the nurse said, her voice thankfully much softer. Monika nodded and downed the pills, chugging down the water as she did. “Do you need more water? You must be incredibly thirsty.”

“I’m fine,” Monika replied, her voice clearer and stronger, though the words still slurred. She pressed her spine against the pillows, slid back down, and let her eyes drift closed, but the nurse didn’t leave. Instead, she pulled a chair up, and slipped a thick, yellowed book out of the bag slung around her shoulder, a bright magenta bookmark sticking out from the top. _The Way of Kings. I’ve read that one._

An image flashed of a book sinking to the bottom of a toilet, someone snickering behind her. Monika peeled her eyes from the book.

“My name’s Celeste, by the way. I’ll be here in the day shifts, as long as you’re with us,” the nurse said.

“I can’t get some alone time?”

“Sorry. Hospital protocol in cases like these,” the nurse replied. She pulled the book open, withdrew the bookmark. “Just pretend I’m not even here. Or talk, if you prefer.”

Monika wasn’t much in the mood for talking. Talking hurt her already fragile head. Instead she rolled over, flinching as the gash around her neck stung. The doctor had said that her dad was on the way up. _Why only dad?_

She remembered that one easy enough. A funeral, everyone dressed in black, her father bawling as he said something at the podium in front of a dark, onyx coffin. The vague image of being in a wrecked car as paramedics pulled her out slid into frame. Monika had been a on the brink of high school, maybe twelve or thirteen, somewhere around that age. The memory only evoked a sense of indifference, as though she simply didn't care. _No hurt over my dead mother. Why?_

Her dad came in next. Monika had been drifting in and out of sleep, watching the green line jump up at every beat of her heart until her eyes drifted shut and her mind wandered amongst the wave of new memories. Her brain still throbbed, but it had dulled, and she didn’t have the strong urge to nuke the sun anymore. Her dad grabbed her hand, held it tight and firm as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He looked _awful._ His green eyes were surrounded by deep, dark circles, the whites bloodshot from possibly weeks of insomnia. His hair had been tied back, his beard untrimmed and unkempt, and he was shaking. Yet a smile tugged at his lips.

“You’re really awake,” he said, his voice just as rough as Monika’s. “God, I can’t believe it. Is she going to be alright, doc?”

Doctor Robert had slipped in behind him, dismissing Celeste and taking her place on the chair as he entered. He shrugged. “She’ll live, at the least. It seems her cognitive functions are working well, and she isn’t blind or deaf. The memory loss may fade in time, but she may never remember some things. We’ll just have to see.”

“I’m fine, dad,” Monika reassured, squeezing his heavy hand, running her finger across his ring.

“You will be fine,” her dad said. “I never paid attention. I _should’ve_ paid attention! I mean, god, after your mother, I just… I’ll get you a therapist. A real one. Meds if they’re needed.”

“We’ll arrange that through the hospital,” the doctor said. “We have a roadmap planned for her. It won’t be easy, but it’ll get her back on her feet.”

“Good. We’ll go through every step, together,” her dad said, staring Monika in the eyes.

Monika gave a weak smile. Images of her dad, overworked and stressed, shouting at a phone or passed out on a couch, worked their way through her mind. Late nights at the office, Monika calling and getting no response. A small voice at the back of her head, barely within hearing, was whispering. _He won’t. He’ll be too busy. He’s always too busy for his only daughter. You’re alone, and always will be._

She shrugged off the voice and wrapped her dad in a hug. Every memory Monika had felt hazy, distant, like the thoughts of someone else, like she was seeing the world through a TV screen. The world around her, the one with a reassuring dad, a proactive, planning doctor, _that_ was real, something for her to hold onto. Perhaps her life really was a mess, something horrible enough to convince her to end it. But she wouldn’t let it consume her now, she wouldn’t let it have its way again.

She was going to fight it, no matter what it took. Her old reality, the one she could remember the most, was fake. Her only happiness, _fake._ She had to build something new, something happy, something _real_ now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't actually know where the title of the story is from, it's an album from Dayseeker called Dreaming is Sinking /// Waking is Rising. Warning in advance, they're a metal band, with plenty of screams.


	2. Two

Weeks were spent in the cold embrace of Monika’s bleak hospital room. She’d waste away most days curled up in the bed, the lights off, the curtains drawn, trying to block out the noise and ignore the eternal pounding in her head. Her mind was an ocean of hundreds of different memories. Two worlds collided together, one where she had friends, chased her dreams, was happy, and another where people scorned her, cast her out, ignored her. She wanted to forget all of it, to start anew, yet the thoughts always clawed their way back to the surface.

Physical therapy was rough. Her legs wobbled and refused to cooperate, forcing her into a mobile wheelchair for the first week, to be brought carefully downstairs and into the workout rooms. Another doctor with a gruff voice would encourage her as she clung tightly to support bars and tried to will her legs to move. Even the walking hurt her head. Within a month, her legs were finally starting to cooperate more, enough for her to move around, albeit slowly and with the support of a thick wooden cane, like an old man. It was better than needing to be carried or wheeled everywhere.

Her father stuck by her side the entire way. He stayed nights on the pull out mattress, slept fitfully, complained about work and the sick days and time off he was exhausting, but he wouldn’t leave her side, nor would any of the nurses sent to watch her. She never had a moment alone. Even in the bathroom she had to be watched, “hospital policy” they’d all say, and she’d be forced to go along with it.

Whatever meds they gave her in the mornings certainly helped dull the earthquake in her brain. She’d down the pills, be taken for her morning sessions, go through invasive, grueling checkups, and speak to a therapist, following the same schedule every day of the week. She struggled when talking to the therapist, tried to hide the world she’d built up in her long, restless coma, but the swirling mix of images from to different worlds made it difficult to discern one from the other, and she’d often find herself talking about the fantasy world on complete accident, forced to retrace her words and cast another memory out.

Reality bled back to her piecemeal. She enjoyed reading poetry, and she’d sent her dad off to fetch books on more than one occasion, and she’d read them until her thoughts were silent and she could dismiss the world around her. She’d been learning piano at some point, though the exact details blended between her actual ability to play in the fake world and her limited ability in the real world. She was a senior in high school. Mostly straight A student, something her dad boasted proudly of, having received several offers from universities. She wondered if she’d be able to settle back into that once she left.

Then there was the girl. Always at the edge of her mind, forever peeking out from behind the static. Brightly colored hair, soft features complete with a tiny button nose, always aloof and bringing Monika warmth and comfort. The name _Sayori_ always rang through her ears.  She recalled a Sayori during her coma, some girl part of the literature club, but she had fuzzy recollections of another girl with bright blonde hair in reality, one that was always by her side, someone she’d trail through rivers and creeks with. A sense of sadness, of guilt, would wash over her at every recollection, though Monika couldn’t place why.

She needed to place the name, give identity to it, stop it from driving her mad. Wandering through the halls of the hospital, navigating their way to the therapist’s office, Monika turned to her father, the question on her mind. “Who’s Sayori? Do I know someone by that name?”

Her dad’s weary, tired eyes went blank, and his pace slowed. He looked at the wall, the floor, anywhere but his daughter, before shrugging and wiping a frown off his lips. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Just someone who keeps popping up in my head,” Monika replied. She noticed the dropped expression he wore as they waited, noticed his unusual silence at he stared out at the blank walls.

Her therapist was a greying old woman, wrinkles pulling her face down, her nose slightly off center. _Doctor Tessa Newton,_ her nameplate read. She spoke with a stereotypical British accent. Monika took the seat in front of her desk, turning the lights off as she entered, as she always did, and Tessa shut down her computer and switched off the monitor. The curtains were also drawn, blocking out the bright morning sun. _Fuck the sun._

“How was physical?” Tessa asked, her voice soft yet clear.

“Same as always,” Monika shrugged. Her legs weren’t so sore anymore, but she was growing tired of needing to use to the cane to get around. Yet every time she tried to be rid of it, her legs seemed like jelly, and fought against her every command. _Like a child who needs to learn how to walk._

Tessa hummed, her head nodding up and down. “So, what’s on your mind today? Excited about going home?”

 _Right, that._ Monika had been given discharge papers for that day. The doctors had deemed her stable enough to return home, and Tessa believed it was time for her to settle back into daily life.

“I can’t remember home,” Monika replied. The only bed she knew was the one in her hospital room, with its thin, sanitized sheets, the pull out couch across from it where her dad slept, the nurse always at the edge of the room, watching her every movement. She had no memories of a home, nor of her own room or bed. Even in the coma, she could only recall the school with its winding, seemingly unending hallways, and the classroom she used for the literature club. One of two schools she could remember, and the happier one at that.

Tessa gave her that look, that _Keep going_ look, and Monika searched for the words. What else could she say? Her memories were hazy, distant, probably unreliable. “I don’t know what it’ll be like, back at home, or at school,” she finally settled on.

Her father had scolded her when she told him of the sessions. She had to talk to Tessa, he’d said. She knew he was right. A therapist was meant to help, meant to guide her through the recovery, and Monika was spending so much time resisting it. She’d told herself that she would try to create real happiness, and if there was anywhere to start building that, it was in Tessa’s office.

“What was school like?” Tessa asked.

“Hell,” Monika replied. Images of snickers and glares in the halls, of spilled food in her lap, of being shoved against lockers, flooded her vision, and she blinked them away. The slurs still echoed faintly in the distance. “People hated me. I don’t even think they saw me as human, just something to mess with and tease.”

“High school can be a rough time. So many people growing past their immaturity, growing into their own. Perhaps when you go back, many of those bullies will have changed.”

Monika wanted to laugh. _Bullies._ It made her problems seem childish, like she was a little girl being shoved into the mud by the bigger boys in the playground. It barely seemed to fit the horrible assaults she’d lived through, of the bruises and cuts, of the slurs that they’d recite like choirs everyday.

The bandages around her arms had been removed. Monika ran her fingers over the thin, narrow scabs and old scars that ran up and down her wrists. She’d ground her fingernails to the quick, dulled them until she struggled just to scratch an itch, ensured she couldn’t dig them into her skin again. The gash around her neck had closed. It still burned, but she was able to move her neck around freely now, and didn’t have to struggle in bed to get comfortable. All scars she’d have to live with now, signs of what she’d managed to barely survive. _Wonder if they’ll be the last._

“How do you typically react when someone attacks you? Do you fight back, or run away?”

Monika remembered begging her dad for a self defense class, something to teach her to fight back, only to be rejected because _she didn’t need it._ She remembered trying to swing back sometimes, trying to come up with her own insults, but she was always surrounded, always alone, and she’d always end up cowering and running away while everyone laughed at her from behind. The blinding rage couldn’t be taken out on them, so her nails would find her arms, and she’d grit her teeth and savor the pain as she imagined smashing faces into concrete floors, breaking bones of those that heckled and laughed. Then she’d clean up the blood, lower her sleeve, and go on with pretending everything was ok.

“I couldn’t fight back,” Monika said. “I always wanted too, but there were always so many of them…”

“Did you tell anyone? Friends, teachers, the principle? Your dad?”

 _Unhelpful jackasses._ Images of teachers lecturing their classes on the wrongs of bullying and harming fellow students only to turn a blind eye to her own mistreatment broke their way into her mind. The principle pulling her into his office, her complaining and making reports while he told her to just hide her sexuality, to try and ignore it, to act ‘normal,’ and her storming off and leaving campus. Her father had always been at work, always ignoring her, dismissing her when she would run to him and beg for help. _Friends?_

“What friends?” she muttered under her breath.

“Friends?” Tessa echoed.

“Everyone hates me,” Monika forced out. “I don’t think I’ve ever had many friends…”

 _Sayori._ That girl flooded her mind again, briefly, before fading away, like a lost photograph blowing away in the wind. _What does it mean?_

“What about when you were asleep? You’ve mentioned a sort of world in your dreams. What was it like?” Tessa pressed.

Monika turned away, her eyes finding the floor, her fingers finding her arms, _nails too short to cut the skin._ She hated talking of it. All it served was to remind her of how sad, of how pathetic she was, that she’d dream an entire reality as she slept, that she’d build something so fake so as to give her the faintest glimmer of companionship. It’d been shoved into the back of her mind, left to drown under the wave of new memories, and every false memory she found dating back to that dream she’d just throw back into that pile. She remembered friends in that reality, bright days filled with hope as she talked of literature, as she won the school the track race, as people flocked to her and respected her. _Fake._

“It doesn’t matter,” Monika muttered.

Tessa hummed, pulled her hands back, and sorted through the stacks of paper scattered across her desk. “You don’t need to talk about it. We all build fantasies in our heads, little things to escape the stresses of life, but those often are things we should keep with ourselves.”

“Mine’s far different,” Monika chuckled. _Wait, have I laughed at all since waking up?_

Tessa found a slip of bright yellow paper, a pink slip underneath it, and slid it toward Monika, along with a black pen. “Final release forms. Once you’re out of my office, you’re free to leave,” Tessa explained, standing up and switching on the lights. Monika recoiled, her eyes instinctually narrowing, but expected sharpness in her head only came in a few dull waves. _How fucked am I if I ever forget to take those pills?_ The unbearable pounding from when she first woke up seemed like a lifetime ago now.

Monika signed the forms without reading. Tessa looked them over, filed them away, and switched her computer back on. “We’ll have weekly appointments now. I’ve tried to schedule most of them after your physicals, so you can just tackle everything at once. Sound good?”

Monika nodded, then took her leave.

Her father was resting outside, head buried in his phone like a teenager. Her cane tapped the tile floor as she approached, wrestled his attention from the device in his hand, and confirmed they could leave. Her own phone was back in her room, probably turned off since the light hurt her head, stung her eyes, and her empty contact list only served to remind her of the bleak reality she now lived in. She remembered to grab it as they packed up.

No one paid them any mind as they hauled their stuff through the lobby. A fresh layer of white snow covered the ground outside, specks of it falling from the light clouds in the sky. _Too bright._ She shielded her eyes on the walk to the car, fought through the growing pain and desire to start screaming at the sun. Once everything had been packed in the trunk of the van, her dad’s phone rang, and he excused himself to take it. Monika leaned against the car, looking back at the hospital she’d spent the past eight weeks in. Even the outside walls had been painted white. _What is it with hospitals and white?_

Her eyes drifted around, following the other people coming and going from the hospital grounds, children and adult alike. No one looked back at her, no one glared, there were no laughs or whispers amongst them as they wandered through the parking lot. She hoped it be the same way in school. Perhaps they’d all heard the news, and they’d just start to ignore her rather than go back to the norm. She could deal with that. Invisibility felt welcome compared to what was swimming in her head.

Someone in the crowd was walking toward Monika, drawing her gaze. Tall, with a head of long dark hair flowing out from her raised hood, wearing her fur collared coat like she owned it. She walked with grace, so much different from the hobbles Monika had managed. She passed by Monika, returned her gaze with mismatched eyes - one the deep blue of the sea, the other as gold as a king’s crown, gave a bright smile and a small wave. Her jawline was strong, her complexion perfect, _almost like I looked in my dream._ Monika timidly waved back. _Still staring._ She chastised herself for being a bit creepy, but couldn’t peel her gaze. _So pretty. Where do I know her from?_

The girl swam through the sea of Monika’s memories. Walking through halls, surrounded by the popular clique, or running on the track faster than anyone else. _Everything I was in my dream._ Monika felt like a name should’ve been attached to the image, or buried within her brain, but she couldn’t fish anything out.

Those mismatched eyes stuck in her head. Everyone had been looking at Monika with caution or pity since she’d woken, their expressions guarded like they’d say the wrong thing or Monika would break down in front of them. The girl’s look was soft, warm, inviting. _Maybe I should’ve said something._

Her father returned from his phone call, said something she didn’t hear. Her eyes were still fixed on the girl from her memories, one of two people she could now somewhat recall, but _this one was real._ Her father tugged at her sleeve, waved his hands in front of her vision, and she turned her gaze to him, but recoiled against the sun behind him.

“You’re spacing out,” her father said. She shrugged, climbed into the van, flinched at the doors slamming shut.

The drive home was long, spent in silence. Light from the midday sun burned down onto the snow, and Monika closed her eyes against it, muted the radio, and tried to relax. Her mind wandered around the sea of detached, random white noise within, juggling through memory after memory. _Sayori and the black haired girl._ Maybe they were the same? Yet the image of Sayori was so much different, with far shorter hair dyed a bright shade of pink, softer features, and two matching blue eyes. _Not the same._

Why was it that these two haunted her mind? She had to have known them in some way. Sayori brought feelings of warmth, of companionship, of belonging, as though they’d been best of friends, undercut by that vague guilt and depression. For the other, envy ran through her veins, a primordial instinct of inferiority, yet also one of attraction. Sayori’s face had been in the dream, Monika knew that, but the other? _I was her._

She’d peered into the mirror every day in the mornings. Her green eyes and ginger colored hair were the same, but her shallow cheeks, her weak jaw and long, jutting nose, it was all distant and unfamiliar. Nothing like she’d been in the dream. Not ugly, just not exactly her definition of pretty. Was that why she’d changed her appearance in the dream? _Or did my mind just unconsciously change it?_

“Everything alright?” her father asked, breaking the silence.

“Fine,” Monika replied. The lying had become natural. No one could understand anyway.

None of the roads triggered new memories to rush forth from the static. The van twisted and turned, passing a downtown packed with towering skyscrapers and crowded with hundreds of busy looking people. They drove through a suburb, then another, and passed a large school campus. _My school._ She recognized the name, the fountain in front of the main doors, the tall central building, the four towers on either side. It was empty, as per a Sunday, yet she could easily see the crowds of students pushing their way to classes, the shouts and laughter in the halls.

She turned away and closed her eyes for the remaining stretch.

The red brick walls of the house they pulled into failed to jog her memory. She searched and searched through the static, but the house was alien, foreign. The long driveway was decorated with lights on either side, and a dead garden rotted away on the front porch. Neighbors on either side had similar houses, with the same lengthy driveway, and the same red colored brick walls. As Monika stepped out of the van, she spied someone across the street, lounging in a lawn chair, a book in their hands.. A girl with short, strawberry blonde hair, a thin frame, and a permanent scowl drawn on her lips. _Someone I know?_

Something leapt out of the static. The girl had bright pink hair in her memory, far brighter than on anyone else, but the same scowl was still there, though she was far shorter and thinner, almost malnourished in a way. _Fake._ Just like Sayori, this one had two versions. _What was her name? Nat- something._

_Wonder how she’d feel if I told her that she lived inside my coma-dream world._

She nearly laughed at the thought, though the resulting smile was nice.

Monika followed her dad inside, but she didn’t recognize the interior of the house any more than the exterior. It was spacious, decorated with leather furniture and a large flat screen TV, but she had to be guided to her room. _Which was on the second floor. Up a flight of stairs._

Fortunately, the hospital had plenty of elevators, and she hadn’t needed to test her legs on any stairs. Now, she dragged her wooden cane along the carpeted steps, taking it one at a time, clinging to the rail for dear life. Her legs wobbled under her, fighting against her, and she wondered if stairs had ever been that hard to climb. _Probably for a cripple._

_Of which I am definitely one now._

Her room was small, messy with piles of clothes scattered around the floor, the sheets on her bed thrown aside. Shelves of books lined the wall, the spines with names she easily recognized, and her desk was covered in schoolwork she didn’t remember doing. _Dad was right about the grades, though._ Posters for bands and artists she struggled to recognize hung from the grey walls. A tattered American sat above her messy bed, _because I live in America, not Japan._ At least, she assumed her coma world had been Japanese, though she couldn’t recall actually seeing any of her father’s native country within.

She rested on the bed while her dad unpacked what they’d brought in. The mattress was comfortable, the blankets a dark shade of purple that didn’t hurt her eyes. At least her curtains blocked the sun out as well. Her laptop was sturdy, modern, and sleek, filled with files of unfinished poetry, stories, and pirated movies and soft indie music. It was most certainly her room. _Why can’t I remember it?_

Her father hung at the door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. “Your mother would’ve thrown a fit if she saw what your room looked like,” he joked, a weak smile drawn on his lips. Monika didn’t find it funny. Her mother was just another fuzzy image blending in with the static, just like Sayori, just like the girl from the parking lot, just like the girl across the street.

“What was mom like?” she asked.

Her father blinked, tore his gaze from Monika. “You can’t remember?” He worked his brow. “She was… difficult to describe. She loved you in her own way, but…”

Flashes of screaming matches, of thrown objects, thrust forth from the static. Her mother’s face, twisted and angry, while Monika hid in her room, cowered instinctively from the yelling. _Another bully, this one in your own household. One you can’t escape._ “Nevermind,” she said, pulling a blanket up and shielding her eyes.

Her father lingered. “Your therapist says it’ll be good for you to settle back into your routine. School, and the like. You don’t have to go tomorrow, but I think-”

“I’ll go,” Monika interrupted, her voice more forceful than anticipated. She was tired of the anticipation, of the worry, of all the wondering what it would be like to walk back in those halls. The likely scenarios popped into view all too easy, but Tessa’s words rang in her head, and she imagined apologetic bullies, or new friends that would reach out a hand. _Too hopeful._ She needed to reign in her expectations, she knew. She couldn’t expect to just show up and everything to work out well. But it felt better to imagine things going right than it did to pick at the memories in her head, so she spent the rest of that night mulling over details, wondering how’d she’d blend in to the background, maybe talk to someone new.

 _I’ll figure it out. I’ll have to figure it out._ She let sleep overtake her when the sun finally fell, anxiously awaiting the morning’s fate. _Though certainly not the sun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fork I'm driving between Monika's two differing realities will, of course, extend to the other characters of the story. Their personalities may be slightly different, but they'll still be the same Dokis we all know and love (save Monika, who's having a hell of a time right now, though FeMC [name only temporary] will take some of Monika's old role). This is still a DDLC fanfic, but I want to ensure there are noticeable differences between the two realities that fit the context of the story and remain respectful to the source material.


	3. Three

Monika stared into the mirror. Her entire appearance still looked completely off, nothing like it had in her other reality. What little makeup she could find had drawn the deep green of her eyes out a little more, and she’d tried to contour her jawline, but she still looked so _alien._ Her hair was stubborn, refusing to settle where she needed it, and her fruitless search for a ribbon had left her brushing it over her shoulders, content to ignore the problem. Her makeup would never be perfect, because her face was just _wrong,_ so she let that be as well.

The pink flesh circling her neck drew her gaze. It cut right down the middle of her throat, stretched around to the top of her spine, and was wide enough to be noticable from several feet away. She’d fished out some chokers, but all of them were far too thin to block it out, and only seemed to draw attention to the issue instead of veiling it. She gave a defeated sigh, decided to leave it be, maybe get some advice from the internet at a later date.

The narrow, scattered scars on her arms were easily covered by long sleeves. _Thank god for winter._

After downing her meds, Monika carefully descended the stairs. Her father waited in the kitchen, dressed in a fancy, black coat with a bright red tie underneath, _decorative clothes for a lawyer, of course._ He juggled his keys around his finger. “Ready to go?”

Monika nodded, flinched at the pain it caused, and tried a weak smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

It was snowing again. Dark, overcast clouds covered the sun’s oppressive rays, freeing Monika of too much pain during the car ride. She slipped her earbuds in, played something relaxing, watched the world outside pass as her father drove. Her nerves were electric, bouncing around inside her. Anxiety flowed through her veins like water. _It’ll all be okay. I’ll be fine,_ she told herself repeatedly.

She’d have to get her schedule once she got to school, meaning a trip to the principal's office, probably fake reassurances that everything would be fine, _like I’m telling myself already._ At least she’d start her day in the main office, which was always bare and abandoned by students, the hallway leading there treated as a walk of shame.

She decided to think of something a bit different.

“Did I know how to drive?” Monika turned to her father and asked. Her ID was state issued, and she had no recollection of how a car worked, other than the very basics.

Her father chuckled. “No, not that I was aware. You’d been pestering me to teach you, though.”

“Well, I may start pestering you again,” she said, turning her gaze back to the road. A spare car, a far older model than the van her father drove now, rotted away in the garage, something she’d seen during the morning when she explored her own home. Perhaps she’d be able to take it.

“Sadly, work’s going to be keeping me busy. Maybe find some friends to help?” her father said.

“Here’s hoping,” Monika whispered. She didn’t even know how to begin finding friends, to sit down and converse with someone and get to know them. In her other reality, she’d just been friends with everyone else, like they were naturally pulled toward her _because they were_ . Clubs could’ve helped. _Though I think I’ll try to avoid the literature club._

Tessa, her therapist, had recommended that she avoid such possible stresses, to sidestep possible flashbacks or breakdowns. Part of Monika disagreed. Her biggest interest, her oldest interest, was in the structure of poetry, of flowing words that created vivid scenes before her eyes. And what better way to find friends than interact with people who had the same interests? _But risking something on my first few days back is probably a bad idea._

“You’ll find friends,” her dad tried to reassure. “You already had…” A sudden coughing fit came over him. “You just have to talk to some people.”

Monika had tried and failed to relieve her nerves.

She settled on just staring out the window, soft guitars at the back of her mind, ignoring her thoughts the best she could.

Her heart thumped hard in her chest as they pulled up to the school. The sun beat down behind it, lit the bustling crowd of students as they laughed and hollered. Cars amassed in the lot, seniors fighting to get to their assigned spaces, avoiding the inconsiderate jaywalkers who chose to wander in the middle of the lot. Her dad pulled up to the front, and Monika steeled her nerves. _Everything will be fine,_ she repeated to herself.

“Have a great day!” her father said as she climbed out of the car.

Some of the passing students shot her glances, but wouldn’t linger. She walked through the pack, avoiding running into anyone, avoided everyone’s gazes. Her ears twitched and tuned into their voices. People talked of the football game last Friday, a disappointing defeat apparently, or made preparations for an upcoming festival _in the middle of winter._ But no one mentioned her. No slurs came her way, no one threw anything at her.

The door to the main office wasn’t nearly as crowded, and she was happy to be free of the bustle of everyone around her. She carefully made her way up the stairs, tapping her cane on the stone, one hand clung tight around the railing. Her hand reached for the door’s knob  but she barely touched it before it swung outward, slamming her in the forehead.

She fell backwards a bit, nearly onto the ground. She dropped her cane, grabbed her head and held it tight as it pounded with tremors intensified from the tyrannical morning sun. Someone gasped, starting repeating “ _sorry”_ over and over again, but Monika just closed her eyes and blocked it all out.

When she opened them again, she found two mismatched eyes looking back into hers, drawn with concern. Blue and gold. “I am so, _so_ sorry about that! They really shouldn’t cover the windows, you know? I didn’t break your nose or anything, did I?”

The girl standing over Monika was the very same from the hospital parking lot, the very same buried in the static crowding her head. Soft, black hair fell over her face, down her shoulders, and an apologetic smile was drawn on her lips. Monika gazed into her mismatched eyes, focused as hard as she could on the white noise within her brain. _How do I know her? Why’d I take her features in the other reality?_

“Um,” the girl blinked. “Are you alright? Seriously? Because I can get a nurse, if you need…”

“I-” Monika swallowed. “I’m fine. Just g-got my forehead a little, that’s all.” She cursed her slur, the damned thing that hadn’t gone away since she’d woken from the coma.

“Oh, good! That’s good!” the girl’s smile brightened. Someone behind her shouted something.

Monika righted her balance, leaned on her cane for support. She felt so weak. So pathetic. She nearly fell over once again as her vision swam with bright specks of color and her mind spun. “Seriously. I’ll be fine.”

“I can totally make this up to you!” the girl said, a little louder that Monika would’ve liked. Her mismatched eyes found Monika’s cane, and focused somewhere above her chest, _at the uncovered scar no doubt._ Monika wished she’d found a suitable choker earlier.

“You’re Monika, right? I’ve seen you around,” the girl said. She held out a hand. “Fayce. My name’s Fayce.”

Monika reached out, shook her hand with as strong a grip as she could manage. Fayce smiled more.

“Hey!” Someone came up behind Fayce, another girl dressed in clothes worth more than Monika’s entire wardrobe. “We need to get going. Like, now.” She glared at Monika, a scowl drawn on her face. “You’re talking to _her?_ ”

“I kind of opened a door. Onto her face,” Fayce mumbled quickly. “Seemed right to apologize, yeah?”

“I guess.” The new girl brushed a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. Her glare didn’t leave Monika. “Just hurry it up.” She pushed passed Monika, harshly bumping into her shoulder, a very subtle _“dyke_ ” mumbled under her breath.

“Sorry about her,” Fayce said after a moment. “Seriously, Monika. I’ll make this up to you! I swear!” Fayce started down the stairs, hurrying to catch up to whoever her friend was, and Monika was left alone, blushing rather furiously, still rubbing at her temples to soothe the pain. She probably wouldn’t ever speak to Fayce again. Still, it was nice she’d at least bothered to apologize.

Monika slipped into the school, rather wary of the door until she found no one behind it. The office sat right in front of her face. An unkempt secretary sat behind the front desk, typing furiously on her keyboard as she sipped from a steaming mug that filled the air with the aroma of coffee. She didn’t even look up as Monika approached.

“Um,” Monika started. “I need to see the principal.”

“Is it important?” the secretary asked, still not looking away from her computer. Monika’s head was thankful the typing stopped, though.

“I need to get my schedule. I’m, um, just returning from a long absence. I’m Monika Soetsu, so-”

“Just head into his office, hun,” the secretary hummed, blindly pointing a finger toward the far door. Monika thanked her and slid the door open.

Principal _whatshisname_ reclined on a comfortable, expensive looking leather chair, his eyes also glued to the computer screen in front of him, though he had the decency to turn his gaze to Monika as she entered. A clock ticked in the room. _Clocks shouldn’t tick._

“Yes?” the greying man behind the desk asked.

“I’m Monika So-”

“Oh, come in. I was expecting you,” he said, waving her in.

She took a seat in front of the desk, on a wooden chair that dug into her back. Her headache was finally beginning to die down, but she felt a knot on her forehead, _likely quite visible, dammit._

“Now,” the principal, whose nameplate read _Eli Goff,_ cleared his throat, fished a thick manilla folder out of his desk. “I understand that you may not be up to your former academic level, and that you’ve fallen behind with your absence. I think, to start off, that we should put you on your traditional schedule and see just where you are.”

Monika softly nodded her head. It wasn’t like she was going to argue.

“If you have any trouble, or run into some problems with the teachers, then come to me directly. We can change your schedule as needed, get a tutor if necessary. Sound good?”

“I suppose,” Monika agreed. Principal Goff slid the manilla folder open, and Monika’s eyes couldn’t help reading the first page. _Monika Soetsu,_ the first line read. _Medically disabled student,_ the second line read in clear, crimson text. Goff sorted through the papers within, pulled one out, and slipped it across the desk to Monika.

 _Advanced English?_ Monika blinked at her schedule. _And advanced history. Oh dear._ She slipped the page into her bag, thanked Goff for doing his job.

“One more thing,” he said as she was preparing to leave. “If any of the students give you trouble, please come to me also. I won’t tolerate it.”

A memory of Monika sitting ahead of him, her hands folded in her lap, spare grains of rice specked on her clothes, shot forth from the static in her mind. Goff was saying the exact same words then. _Perhaps it’ll be different now, considering I’d just tried to-_

“I will,” she said. “Thank you again, Principal Goff.”

Her first class was Algebra II. She couldn’t even remember taking a _one._ She followed a map of the building that led her to a hallway connecting back to the campus halls, navigated her way through the crowds that thankfully ignored her, until she found the right room.

No memories of the place swam from the ocean in her mind, but the room felt familiar. Desks situated into rows lined the room, students behind them writing in notebooks or conversing with friends and neighbors. The teacher, a tall woman with a short blonde pixie cut, sat behind her big wooden desk, sipping from a chipped ceramic mug, offering Monika a cheerful smile that felt anything but fake. “You’re back!” she said, her tone upbeat, like the sun had just come out after a rainy day. _Though I certainly wouldn’t take that tone._

Monika forced a smile. “Decided it was time,” she said. The teacher clicked her tongue. _Ms. Bynes_ flopped out of Monika’s head, confirmed by the bronze nameplate at the edge of the desk.

“I do hope you’re well. It’s never good to be at school angry,” Ms. Bynes said. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

Monika frowned at the rows of desks. A vague recollection of having an assigned desk emerged from the static, something she’d complained about at the start of the semester, but none of the desks stood out to her. Ms. Bynes tapped on her shoulder and pointed her toward one.

Her neighbor, a muscular guy with curly hair and a navy blue leather jacket, gave her a passing glance as she took her seat. Once again, she forced out a smile, a small wave, but his expressionless face went back to whatever book he was reading. _Ignored._

Yet the thought of the door incident, the girl who shoved passed her, the mumble of _“dyke,_ ” stood out in her mind. _Maybe only temporarily ignored._

The bell rang, a piercing sound that sent recoil up Monika’s spine, and the remaining students sauntered in, filling up the empty desks. Ms. Bynes took her place at the front of the classroom and started a lecture. Monika struggled to recognize anything about the class, about the formulas drawn on the whiteboard, and while everyone else jotted down notes with busy pens and pencils, she simply stared blankly ahead.

Even as the teacher explained a new formula, something involving equations and the word _sin_ , Monika couldn’t absorb the information. The words just went in and then right back out. She copied the whiteboard down onto a blank notebook, wrote down parts of the lecture, but nothing stuck. Even when the worksheet was passed around and everyone else was intently focused on their work, she couldn’t seem to fill out any of the problems, couldn’t think of the proper solutions or even how to find them. Time ticked by, and her gaze found itself wandering the room.

Nothing stirred in her sea of dissociated thoughts, even as she examined the faces of classmates, people she’d been going to school with for years. She searched and searched, trying to fish out names, trying to swim through and wrangle a picture, but she was totally blank. It was strange, how memories just seemed to jump out at random times. Obviously they were all still there, but she couldn’t get into them, couldn’t pick and choose which ones she needed.

Everyone else had turned in their work, starting mumbling and giggling with their classmates and friends, and all Monika could do was hopelessly try and solve unfamiliar problems using alien equations. Clearing her desk at home, she’d found graded worksheets and projects, report cards praising her aptitude at math, among other subjects, but now she may as well been trying to decipher a new language. When the bell rang again and Ms. Bynes was dismissing the class, Monika approached her desk, blank worksheet in hand.

“Um,” she began. “I’m sorry, but I’m having a lot of trouble focusing. I was wondering if I could take this home, maybe complete it and turn it in tomorrow?”

Ms. Bynes studied her, looked over the blank sheet, then nodded. “Of course,” she said in a motherly voice. “Take all the time you need to settle back in. If you can’t figure it out, see me after class tomorrow and we’ll talk over it.”

Monika thanked her, slipped the sheet into her bag. _One worry off the mind, for now._ She was about to leave the room when someone nearly slammed into her, _thankfully not another door._

Short, strawberry blonde hair, thin form, and a scowl on her face. Monika had seen her yesterday, across the street in a lawn chair, reading a book. _And even before that._ She was dressed in pink, _so much bright pink,_ from her shirt to the long, frilly skirt around her legs, and even the clip in her cropped hair. The girl shoved through Monika like they hadn’t just nearly ran into each other. “Ms. Bynes,” she sang in a high pitched, childlike tone. “Madame President Yuri needs some assistance in the clubroom.”

Monika paused. _Yuri._ Why was that familiar? No faces jumped out at her. Yet the name echoed in her mind.

“Natsuki, please, _inside voice,_ ” Ms. Bynes said.

“Sorry, but one must use a respectful tone when addressing such _royalty_ ,” the short girl, Natsuki, spat. _Natsuki. I nearly had it right yesterday._ At least Monika knew where she was from, though why Natsuki had been present in the other reality remained a mystery.

Monika was about to depart the room again when, _again,_ she nearly ran into someone. Tall, nearly black hair loose down her shoulders, dark eyes wide with surprise, then wider when she looked Monika over. “Sorry,” she said.

Monika stepped aside, but kept her gaze on the tall girl as she hurried into the classroom. “Ms. Bynes, we have a… _situation_ in the clubroom that needs immediate attention,” she said, her voice soft and hushed.

“I was handling this!” Natsuki shouted, hands on her hips.

“Natsuki! Voice,” the teacher scolded. “Yuri, you make things seem so dire. Perhaps a call to the police is needed?”

“I’m not that awful at managing the club!” Yuri snapped.

“Alright, alright, take me to this urgent emergency,” Ms. Bynes laughed, pushing her chair away from her desk and standing up. She looked toward Monika, and Yuri and Natsuki’s gazes followed. Monika instinctively retreated toward the wall. The teacher addressed her, “Monika, make certain to try and get that paper done tonight.”

“Yes ma’am,” Monika muttered. Ms. Bynes smiled, said her farewell, and left, Natsuki hot on her heels, but Yuri lingered behind, her imposing frame stopping in front of Monika.

“I- I just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re back,” Yuri stuttered. “A-and! I’m sorry, about before- you know…”

“For the near collision?” Monika tilted her head. She’d already apologized.

“No, I meant, last year, with the club. We really were full, and still are! But I-I didn’t handle it very well, did I?” Yuri twirled hair around in her finger.

Monika didn’t really know. Yuri’s presence didn’t seem to trigger any memories, so other than the name, it was more like Yuri was just a new person Monika was meeting for the first time. “It’s fine, I guess,” Monika settled on saying. She was better off not pressing, not jogging up some unpleasant memory.

“Ok!” Yuri smiled. “Well, I have to be off. Be seeing you!” Yuri left the classroom with a wink and a turn on her heels.

Monika’s thoughts wouldn’t leave the two girls even as she settled into her advanced English class, which was rather bare of students. Natsuki she recalled from the alternate reality, _was it really alternate if it was fake?_ But she had been even shorter then, with pink hair, and a very, _very_ thin frame. Monika recalled several occasions of Natsuki making mentions of an abusive father, of needing money for lunch at school. Yet the one she’d seen in the real world seemed fairly well fed, tall enough for a girl in high school.

Then there was Yuri. _Still blank._ Yet the name stuck out, lingered on the edge of the abyss, acting as though it’d pull a sudden image out at any moment yet always tossing it back at the last second. There was something there. _So frustrating to have no control over your own thoughts and memories._

The bell rang and pulled Monika from her own head. The teacher, a thick, fat man with a long beard and even longer hair, gave his lecture in a breathy voice, stumbling over his words on occasion. Monika copied notes, the words flowing far easier than the formulas in Algebra, her mind easily recalling certain terms and books she’d read in the past.

The same was true of the following class, Biology. Then again for History. It was as though she had never taken an absence at times, the way her brain easily picked at the information, digested lectures and recalled needed terms. It was such an odd change, how her mind suddenly worked the way she needed.

Lunch was the most stressful thing so far.

The cafeteria was crowded with half the student body, everyone shouting and laughing, the noise pounding at the walls of Monika’s head. She ducked through the crowd. A few passing glances again, some whispers at the sight of her, but nothing too extreme, nothing like the abuse she recalled suffering in the past, in that wide cafeteria. Her lunch was just a light sandwich. Her stomach groaned at the sight of any heavier foods, as it had since she’d started eating hospital food, so she continued to keep her meals light.

_Now to find somewhere to sit._

Most of the tables were full, crowded with colorful people chatting with their friends, or laughing at videos on their phones. She walked across the isles. Once upon a time, she’d retreated to the far walls, sat on her own, kept her head down and avoided anyone’s gaze, but lunch seemed like the perfect time to make friends, _if possible._

And she spied a good candidate.

Yuri was isolated as far from the crowd as possible, her empty tray set aside, a book with a moss green cover in front of her face. _A Storm of Swords._ Monika recalled the book easily, looked back on reading it with a fondness. But she had a question at the edge of her mind, something she really needed to ask before it drove her mad, so she took a deep breath and slid into the bench across from Yuri.

The dark haired girl looked up from her pages wide-eyed. “O-oh! Monika, hello,” she said with a small smile and tense shoulders.

“Hey, Yuri,” Monika said, returning the smile.

“Is this about the club? Because I already-”

“No,” Monika interrupted. “It’s not. I just had a question, actually.”

Yuri furrowed her brow, set aside her book after marking her place. She folded her hands on the table in front of her. “Alright.”

“Did we know each other, by any chance?” Monika had to raise her voice over the noise, intensifying her damnable slur, but she’d asked now. Perhaps the answer would jog something in her memory, help her sort through her thoughts easier, and even if it hadn’t, at least she’d just broken the ice for a conversation.

Yuri lightly shook her head. “I- we didn’t really talk much. I don’t think we said more than three words to each other before last semester. An odd question to ask me, though.”

“Sorry, my memory isn’t exactly… um…” _How to put this?_ “I can’t remember certain things, and your name kind of rang at the back of my mind.”

“Oh,” Yuri said, blinking. “You showed interest in the club after I took over, but we didn’t have much room, and-”

 _Oh!_ Something finally surfaced from her thoughts. A dimly lit classroom, Yuri standing in front of a teacher’s desk while a dozen other blank faces looked at Monika. Monika had been shaking, her voice raised, hot anger running through her bones. Yuri’s face was apologetic, but her look was guarded. Someone had burst in, dragged Monika out of the room by force, and slurs followed her out. _More questions there than answers._

“Monika?” Yuri cut through the static. “A-are you okay? Should I get a nurse?”

 _Second time someone’s asked that._ She shook her head, _painfully dammit._ “I’m fine,” she confirmed.

“You were kind of spaced out, or something,” Yuri said, worry in her eyes.

“No, really, it’s ok. Sorry, just… thinking,” Monika insisted. She nibbled on her sandwich, sipped at her water, tried to fight an oncoming wave of nausea. _Stupid memory floods._

“Anyway, I didn’t see much of you after the, um, argument. No one really did. No one knew much until-” she stopped, looked down at the table. “Once again, I’m so sorry about it. Membership is limited, and we sort of got f-full quickly, and you were just late. Sorry.”

“You’re apologizing a lot for something I barely remember,” Monika giggled. “No hard feelings, obviously.”

“Oh! Good, I guess,” Yuri fiddled with her jacket as silence took over. Her eyes jumped back and forth between her book and the empty tray. The silence reigned, not exactly uncomfortable. Monika continued swimming in her mind, fishing through the static, trying to find something else. _Had I really broken down over being refused membership in the club?_ She could imagine being upset at that, trying to reach out only to have her hand slapped, but to push her so far…?

There were other threads, other links to that memory. But all she got was _Sayori._ The face without an identity, the girl that haunted Monika’s thoughts, the thing that really was going to drive her insane. She tried to trace it back, follow the threads farther, but they only vanished in the impenetrable static.

“Oh Yuri!” The squeaky, loud voice dragged Monika back into the real world, sending shockwaves through her head. _Why do people need to be so loud?_

Natsuki’s short, thin frame slid in the bench, right beside Monika. The girl briefly looked at Monika. “You’re here? Oh.” Her eyes were filled with _something. Worry? Scorn? So unreadable._

“What do you want, Natsuki?” Yuri asked, annoyed, though her cheeks were pinched with a smile.

“So, I have this really great idea for the club! We should-”

“ _No,”_ Yuri immediately said.

“But you didn’t even-”

“No,” she reiterated. “Seriously, not another one of your _ideas._ We almost broke a window last time. Do you think they’d let us keep a literature club if we vandalized the school?”

Natsuki frowned. “I wasn’t gonna suggest something like that again,” she muttered.

Yuri sighed. A long moment passed, Monika finishing the rest of her food and keeping a wary eye upon the newcomer.

Natsuki had been energetic, excitable in the other reality, _I need to stop calling it that because there was nothing ‘real’ about it,_ and it certainly seemed to extend to the real world. She bounced in her seat, her foot tapping the linoleum impatiently. Her gaze would find Monika, but that unreadable expression would fill her bright blue eyes again, and she’d quickly tear herself away.

When Yuri brought out a cookie, Natsuki’s built-in scowl intensified. “You said you didn’t have the money-!”

“Not for you,” Yuri added. She took a bite out of the treat. “I only kept enough for mysel- Hey!”

Natsuki reached across the table startlingly quick, and snatched the cookie from Yuri’s hands. The tiny girl bounded off, laughing all the while.

“That girl’s gonna be the death of me,” Yuri muttered.

“She seems nice,” Monika said.

Yuri’s eyes went wide again. “M-Monika! I completely forgot you were here. Um,” she cleared her throat. “She’s a handful. Helpful, but a handful.”

“She’s part of the club?”

“On a technicality.”

“A technicality?” Monika echoed.

“Manga is technically literature, I guess,” Yuri replied. The shrill ring of the bell sliced through the air, deafened Monika and stung her brain for a quick moment before she recovered. _Getting used to it, thankfully._

Yuri stood up first, sliding out of her bench and pulling her book closed. “I-it was nice talking with you, Monika,” Yuri said with a shy smile.

Monika smiled back. “And you, Yuri.”

_Maybe now there won’t be anymore lonely lunches._

The rest of the school day went by, Monika fishing for more and more thoughts and memories as she recalled the subject material of the remaining classes. Save Algebra, she considered herself a success for the day, especially considering she hadn’t suffered a nervous breakdown and had only heard one slur. _Though my forehead’s still a little sore._

Once the final bell rang and the students poured out of the school, Monika found herself waiting against the wall, an eye out for her dad’s bright red van. Yuri had said goodbye on her way out, followed closely by a sheepish Natsuki who gave that weird expression again.

Monika barely had time to slide her earbuds in before someone strolled up to her side. Permed dark hair covered her shoulders, her clothes far out of place in a normal school setting and putting Monika’s plain wardrobe to shame. A smile was perched on her face, quite fake. “I didn’t get the chance to welcome you back this morning.”

The muttered _“dyke”_ rang at the back of Monika’s hearing. “Um, thanks?”

“You’re welcome!” The stranger’s smile grew, though it wasn’t exactly bright. Something sinister crept up her dark eyes. “I’ve always been one for trying to keep updated, but it was a surprise to see you, especially being clumsy on the stairs.”

“I wasn’t-” Monika blinked. “Who _are_ you, anyway?”

The stranger scowled, a mock sense of hurt drawing their features. “You’d forget about _me?_ After all this time, all that we’ve been through, you’d dare forget me? I’d heard you were brain damaged, but didn’t think that bad.” The faux smile crept back onto her lips. “You know, it wasn’t nice to string the rope around your neck because some of us joke around with you. Do you know what we went through? Half the school thinks we took it too far!”

 _We?_ So there were others as well. _Great._ “I don’t entirely understand. Did you just…?”

“Don’t get me wrong, obviously you went through a lot too,” the stranger interrupted. “But it was all just meant to be funny! Like, jokes? That sort of thing? It was meant to be good for you too. I mean, you obviously had an unhealthy obsession with Sayori." The stranger scoffed. "I mean, you even played copycat with her. God, you're not supposed to jump off bridges just because friends may do it. Or whatever."

Monika’s vision went blank. Faint glimmers of screaming filled her hearing as her mind fished in the static, placed down a new card. _“Shit’s not normal, I tell you,”_ the stranger’s voice said, just at the edge of her mind. _“Always spending the night together. Wonder what you two do? I swear the two of you should be in a camp, or something.”_ Someone else shouted something, voice sharp with anger. _“Sayori!”_ Monika’s voice rang, though she hadn’t opened her mouth to talk, and there wasn’t a slur. _“Let’s just go. Ignore them.”_

Yet, just underneath it all, there was another, smaller memory, far fainter and distant. The stranger's face, etched with a permanent frown, laughing at something Monika said, throwing on a genuine, bright smile. 

Monika blinked, and her vision faded back, the stranger standing right in front of her, far too close for comfort. “Mon-i-ka, are you listening? God, I don’t need to find a nurse, do I?”

 _Nice to know even the assholes are watching out._ “I’m fine. Just… go away, or something. We don’t need to speak anymore,” Monika said as she started to walk away.

“ _Go away?_ Who are you to-”

“Theresa~!” another soft voice rang. Monika turned to face the newcomer, saw two mismatched eyes softly gazing at her. _Fayce._ “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I was just leaving,” the stranger, _Theresa,_ said. She wandered off, mumbling something just out of earshot.

“Sorry about her,” Fayce said, a frown pulling at her lips. “She’s usually good.”

“I have memories telling me otherwise,” Monika shot back, more venom on her tongue than anticipated. If Fayce was friends with this Theresa, then perhaps she wasn’t as nice as Monika was assuming. _Falling for a pretty face._

Fayce shrugged. “Sometimes she just needs a pull on the leash. Anyway, I just wanted to apologize again, for y’know, smashing your face with a door,” she laughed, a cute, infectious little sound.

“It’s seriously fine,” Monika insisted. Her headache hadn’t cleared up much since the incident, but what was she going to do about it? The windows to the main office had been covered, she couldn’t have seen Monika, and definitely didn’t know she was about to slam a door against the forehead of a brain damaged girl. Monika just accepted the apology, _time to move on._

“Noooo, it’s not!” Fayce’s smile dropped. “I owe you. Lots. So, how about dinner?”

Monika blushed. No chance in hell that it was supposed to be a _date,_ but she was being asked to dinner by a cute girl, _and people will definitely assume._ The way people were shouting greetings, hollering goodbyes to Fayce as she had passed through the crowd indicated a certain level of popularity as well. _So much for invisibility._

“Please? Let me make it up to you? I still feel awful,” Fayce pleased, folding her hands in front of her.

“I won’t say no,” Monika sheepishly replied.

“Great~!” Fayce grabbed Monika’s wrist, pulled her through the parking lot. Monika kept her head down, her eyes on the asphalt, trying to ignore the passing glances of the people around her, but for just a moment, _she didn’t care._ Fayce was excitedly talking onward. “I know a place downtown, a hole in the wall, with great food. You’ll love it, ‘cause everyone does.”

 _Not a terrible day, so far._ Monika brightly smiled.


	4. Four

Downtown was bustling with rush hour madness. Outside the window, Monika watched people walk by, busy with their phones, while cars crowded the streets and blared their horns. The midday sun had begun setting behind the skyline of steel towers, thankfully out of her eyes.

Plates clattered and waitresses shouted orders over the chatter of the restaurant's many patrons, and the stoves behind the bar filled the air with the aroma of greasy, fried food, and Monika’s stomach only reeled in response. Even if her eternal headache finally subsided, she’d be stuck with an empty appetite, depriving her of the joys of food she was starting to vividly remember. Across the booth, happily munching on a fat burger, Fayce would give her an occasional smile.

They hadn’t talked all that much. Monika was starting to regret coming. Their interests couldn’t be more apart; Fayce was a sports girl, representing their school in track and basketball, and enjoyed parties and socialization. She was on the student council. She’d helped organize and found half the clubs in the school. If popularity took a physical form, it was that girl. Monika had gotten a taste of such a life in her coma, but with every passing moment those memories became hazier, lost in the static of her bleary mind, leaving her a shell of what she’d been in that dream.

Monika was content to just stare out the window, munching on fries only because eating was required to stay alive. She’d pass the time, go home, and forget all about the awkwardness of this dinner, and Fayce probably would joke about it with her scornful friends. Briefly, she remembered to text her dad, tell him where she was in case he freaked out. _First day back home and I’ve already vanished._

Fayce hummed. “Monika? Are you alright?”

“What?” Monika turned from the window, found concern in those blue and gold eyes.

“I asked you a question, like, four times.” Fayce tilted her head. “You ok?”

“Fine,” Monika replied. “Just thinking about things.”

“I’ll bet,” Fayce smiled. “First day back to school, huh? Can’t imagine what it’s like for you, after… everything.” Her mismatched eyes looked away, out the window. Fayce’s expressions were constantly guarded, unreadable. It reminded Monika of someone else. _And the color pink._

“It was, um, _interesting,_ I suppose,” Monika muttered.

“Yeah?” Fayce returned her gaze, curiosity peeking through that guarded expression.

 _How the hell do I even begin?_ Explaining her soup of memories was like explaining an alien language to someone, and brought up uncomfortable events. She’d spent most of the day trapped in her head, trying to reclaim her grasp of the real world. She struggled to talk about such things with her _therapist._ How was she to talk about it with some random girl she’d barely met?

Yet something about those eyes, _blue and gold,_ was so warm and inviting. _Tell me your thoughts, and everything will be ok,_ they said. Monika felt powerless to obey.

“Just, lots of thinking today,” Monika dragged out.

“Something you do a lot, I’d imagine. Seeing friends must’ve been nice.”

“Friends?” Monika involuntarily chuckled.

“Like that Yuri girl you were talking to at lunch. Head of the literature club! I helped her set it up, you know,” Fayce beamed. “Yuri doesn’t have many friends either. I wanted to push her out of her element a little, get her doing something I knew she’d enjoy, and it worked, didn’t it?”

“Yuri’s not really a friend,” Monika said.

“So are you part of the club, then?”

Monika choked on her drink. That memory, the one that had attacked her at lunch, was still fresh at the edge of the abyss, smiling and taunting. “I’m definitely not part of the club.”

Fayce’s brow furrowed, then her eyes went wide. “Oh. _Oh._ Right, I think I remember that whole affair… um,” she paused, went back to her food.

“I can’t remember much of it,” Monika mused.

“Can’t remember? What do you mean?”

“I have memory problems now,” Monika replied slowly. “There are a lot of things I can’t really recall, though they happened.”

Fayce gazed thoughtfully at her. Was that… _concern?_ “I see.”

“I remember an attempt at joining the club, sort of, but it’s hazy, and…” _Why does she care?_

“It was a month or so before your, um…” Fayce blinked. “It was on top of other things, I guess. Like- your other friend, what was her name? She moved away or something,” Fayce finished, slowly, mincing her words.

 _Sayori._ It seemed they’d been friends, at some point. Yet Monika couldn’t recall anything specific. _Pink hair, dark hair, blonde hair, it all mixes together. Just who was this girl?_ Monika sighed, gazed back out the window. The way her mind kept trying to hide this mystery girl while at the same time taunting her with that face was becoming maddeningly infuriating. She could recall vague incidents, loud yelling and pelted slurs, crying while Monika tried to find uplifting words, but everything blended into the static, washed away by the waves before she could examine anything.

It seemed everyone she talked to mentioned Sayori in some way. At least now Monika knew she’d gone away, _moved away._ Maybe she could find the girl?

“Moni? You there?” Fayce snapped fingers in front of her face, and Monika flinched, a sudden pounding in her head. “Do you space out often?”

“It seems so,” Monika said, forcing a smile. “Just thinking, about the girl you mentioned.” _Pick words carefully here._ “I can’t seem to remember much of her. She moved away?”

“I think so.” Fayce stared blankly at the table. “I mean, she just stopped showing up to school one day, and her parents kind of left town, so I’m just assuming things.”

“Theresa said something else earlier, about her,” Monika said. “She said that I played ‘copycat’ with her.”

“Oh jeez…” Fayce’s eyes screwed with anger. “She really needs to tone down some. But, I don’t entirely know what that means. I mean, you two were similar in many ways.”

“It came after a mention about…” _Damn._ The words stuck at the edge of her tongue, but Fayce’s expression changed in realization. “Do you think that she knows what happened?”

“Theresa is fond of gossip,” Fayce replied, shaking her head. She fixed a loose strand of dark hair. “I’ve tried to tell her to stop listening to rumor, but it seems my leash doesn’t extend to that part of her.” She took a sip of her drink, her head tilted in thought. “Just try to ignore her. She can be a real asshole sometimes.”

“Then why are you friends with her?” Monika pressed. Fayce’s stare went blank. _Oops. Didn’t word that well._

“She has a nice side!” Fayce quickly replied, the honey in her voice gone. “Her pride just bleeds out too much, that’s all, but if you really knew her, you’d know she can be a great person.”

Monika hummed, not wanting to pursue the issue anymore. Every memory Monika could recall of the girl screamed _bully._ Whatever niceness was inside her seemed reserved for a select few.

Fayce went back to finishing her food, and Monika congratulated herself on spoiling the mood. They’d just been talking, quite nicely, and Monika had managed to screw it up, _of course._ Socialization was easy in the coma, but that was only because everyone had just been drawn to her, like she was some kind of beacon. It didn’t work that way in the real world. Her skills needed work, she needed to be more mindful of her words, but she didn’t even know where the start trying any of that.

She looked back to Fayce, found those mismatched eyes set upon _my wrists?_ Monika hurriedly pulled the sleeves of her jacket back down, covered the disaster zone, but the damage was done, and Fayce quickly looked away, finding the other patrons of the place more interesting. Monika started to rub at the site, her trimmed, dulled nails nearly trying to dig under the fabric.

“Not everyone at school is an asshole,” Fayce softly hummed. The honey was back. “Theresa’s like that with everyone, generally, but the others? You’ve already met Yuri. She’s one of the nicest people I know! And the both of you share an interest already, right? Why not find her again tomorrow, talk to her more?”

Somehow, that idea didn’t seem too daunting. The literature club may have been full, but Yuri had a life outside that, and Monika could’ve been friends with her.

More memories finally jumped from the static, cleared up and washed ashore. Monika found them, gazed in them, found another world beneath their surface, one where the two had talked passionately of sprawling fantasy worlds, of the complexity of poetry, of improving the writing process. _Another world._ Monika had been head of the literature club then, and it wasn’t near max capacity.

_Perhaps it doesn’t have to be fake._

“I think I will,” Monika resolved.

Fayce beamed. “Good~! Everyone needs company.”

Monika flinched at the piercing sound from the other side of the booth, felt the table vibrate. Fayce jumped, quickly pulled her phone out, and silenced the damnable thing. “Um, I totally wasn’t expecting to be here this long,” she said with a smile.

Monika peered back out the window. Rush hour traffic was gone, replaced by a lighter layer of slowed pedestrians, and the sun had dropped below the horizon, darkening the sky. Fayce waved the waitress over, paid the bill in cash, packed her things up. “I need to get home. I imagine the same for you?”

Monika nodded a confirmation. She followed Fayce out of the establishment, her cane silently tapping the floor in front of her.

The drive back was spent mostly in silence. Monika leaned her head against the cool of the window, watched the passing world outside, letting her head wander amongst the ocean of random memories but fruitlessly fishing nothing out of the waters. At least she was finally starting to put the pieces together on Sayori. Friend, bullied like Monika, _moved away or succeeded at what I failed._ If she had a last name, she might’ve been tempted to pull her phone out and google it. At least she’d be able to silence the intrusive thoughts.

“I had fun tonight,” Fayce said once they’d pulled up to Monika’s still unfamiliar home. “We should totally do this again sometime~!”

“Yeah,” Monika agreed. No matter the company she kept, Fayce seemed like a decent sort.

“Oh, um,” Fayce dug around her bag, pulled a small notepad out and turned to a random page. After a moment of scribbling, she tore the page out, passed it to Monika. “My phone number. Text me if you’re ever bored or just want to talk.”

“I think I will,” Monika said, delicately holding the page like it was made of glass. She said a final goodbye, waved as Fayce pulled away, and made her way up the driveway.

The TV was on inside, turned to some news channel. Her father was passed out on the couch, his coat gathered under his head, his phone on the table beside an empty scotch glass. He snored, didn’t move as she approached, not until she switched the TV off.

“Mmmm,” he groaned, propping himself up. “Mon? Dear? You were out a little late.”

“Was with a friend,” Monika said, drawing the final word out a little. It felt good on her tongue. Alien, but good.

“A friend? With Say-” he coughed, yawned. “What friend?”

“Someone new,” Monika replied. _Maybe it’s time I pursued this a little more._ “Were you about to say ‘Sayori,’ by any chance?”

Her father scratched his nose, stretched out, checked the empty scotch glass. “Sorry, what?”

“Sayori,” she emphasized the word. “You were about to say her name.”

“I don’t know the name,” her father replied with a shrug. “Anyway, did you have fun?”

 _Fine. You don’t want to talk about it, then don’t._ “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have been out so late,” she replied with a grin. Her dad hummed. He stood up, staggered into the kitchen and flipped on the light as he reached into the fridge for a bottle of something. _Something obviously alcoholic._ The stink permeated the air as he pulled it open with a pop.

“So, how’d school go?” he asked as he slowly poured _something_ in his glass.

“Well enough,” she replied. “I didn’t much understand math, but everything else went well.”

“That’s good,” he said, flipping the light off and drinking from his glass. The liquid was a deep brown. “It’s getting a bit late though. I’m going to head off to bed, think you should do the same.”

“No argument here,” Monika yawned.

~.~

The sun blasted through the windows, and Monika groaned on instinct, but the usual pain was noticeably absent. She slid her eyes open. _Where am I?_ She’d been laying flat on a desk, at the edge of a classroom. The wood dug into her back, sent her spine reeling as she sat up, and she swung her legs over the side and stood up. The lack of pounding in her head was confusing. She peered out the window, but below the sky, she only saw an endless plain of grass and trees. No cars, no parking lot. Just a field.

Someone was trying to open the door on the far end of the room, pulling on the handle, knocking at the frame. Monika yawned, slowly made her way to the door, unused to walking with her two legs cooperating. She couldn’t find a cane, but she didn’t seem to need one. Everything around her was hazy, as if covered in a layer of fog, and the floor was like a cloud, ready to fall out from under her at any moment.

“Hello?” she said once at the door. The knocking came again.

“C’mon Mon, you know it’s me!” A familiar voice shouted back. _Familiar._ Yet she couldn’t place the name that it belonged to. She flipped the lock, pulled the door open.

Pink hair, button nose, soft jawline, bright smile on her lips. Sayori jumped up, wrapped Monika in a tight embrace that took the air out of both of them. “It’s been a while!” she shouted. Monika blinked. Her mouth went dry, her tongue refused to move. “I know I’ve been gone, but I got back as quick as I could!”

When the two separated, Sayori’s hair had changed. It was slightly longer, colored a deep, midnight black. Her bright smile was still there. She walked past Monika, brushing her shoulder into the classroom, and Monika closed the door.

Sayori’s hair was a bright blonde when she turned back around, much longer than before. The girl put a bag on a desk, pulled out a chair and sat down. “No one else is here?”

Monika shook her head. _Why can’t I talk?_

Sayori beamed. “Just the two of us then! A shame, though. I’ve got something I wanted to give Yuri.”

Monika walked over, seated herself on the edge of Sayori’s desk. The girl’s hair had gone back to being a shade of pink, cut down above the shoulders. Her infectious smile was still there, beaming back at Monika. “Anyway,” Sayori said. “I was-”

The door pounded. “Let me in!” someone shouted. “Please! Something’s- it’s out here!”

Sayori grabbed Monika’s arm as she went to the door, pulled her back to the desk. Her smile stayed there. “Where are you going?”

“The door! Please! Let me in!”

 _Fayce’s voice._ Monika tried to say something, to shout she was coming, to demand Sayori release her, but her tongue may as well have been gouged out. She tried to pull herself free of Sayori’s startlingly strong grasp, tried to pry her fingers free, but the grip stayed, Sayori’s bright blue eyes full of _something._

_Anger?_

“I can’t believe it,” Sayori said, a tinge of shaky rage at the back of her voice. “You’d choose her instead of me? I’ve been out there for _months,_ and you’ve refused to let me in until now, but _she_ comes pounding and your reaction is immediate?”

Monika tilted her head. The pounding and pleading continued. Outside, the sun had vanished, and the sky was dark and swirling with shades of all different colors. The other desks in the room had disappeared, leaving just the one, Sayori seated behind it, the smile still perched on her face like everything was fine.

“All of this is _your_ fault, you know,” Sayori sang. “I mean, when you confessed, it was obvious, wasn’t it? I wasn’t going to be ok after that. If you’d never said anything…” Her smile intensified.

“Don’t listen to her!” Fayce screamed. Monika turned back to the door, tried to run toward it, but was pulled toward the desk, and her head snapped back around.

Sayori’s face was a sickening shade of blue and purple. Her neckline was gouged with a deep ring, her arms covered in crimson dots and lines. Her stare was blank. “Such a sad day, wasn’t it?” she said. Monika’s head began to pound. “You may have forgotten, but _I_ certainly remember.”

The pounding continued. “Monika!” The shouting carried through the air, farther and farther away, while the world vanished around her. “Monika!”

“Monika!”

“ _Monika…”_

Her eyes shot open a second time, someone rubbing her arm around the wrist, right where Sayori had gripped it. She flinched backward, slammed her head against the headboard, gasped in pain.

When she looked, no one was there.

She was alone in her room. Dust floated around the window, illuminated by the morning sun, _which was contributing rather extensively to the headache._ Her phone vibrated on the nightstand. _School,_ the alarm said, just under the clock’s time. _7:49._

Her dreams hadn’t been that vivid. She read the label on her medications once, saw that a side effect was dreams, but dismissed it after a few dreamless nights. Yet she’d seen a lot the day before, and spent plenty of time in the static pool she called a brain. _Not surprising that triggered some things._ She wondered about the accuracy of the dream. The things Sayori had said… _My fault. Confessed? Confessed what?_ But there weren’t any answers in her head, she’d resigned.

Monika rubbed her head, propped herself up on her elbows, switched off the alarm. Sleep still sank into her body, her eyes heavy, and she contemplated skipping for the day, _but that’s not a wise idea on my second day back._     She needed to get into a schedule. So, she forced herself out of bed, slipped some simple winter wear on, downed her pills, and tried her hair again.

She remembered braiding it once, at the insistence of someone else. Using what time she had left, she fiddled with her hair, pulled it all into a braid down her shoulder, left the mirror a little more confident in her appearance.

Her father drove her to school again, the ride silent as it was the day before. With her earbuds in, she made her way to the classroom for the first class of the day, struggled through the lecture, _remembered that she forgot to do that worksheet._ After giving an excuse to Ms. Bynes, she was off again, promising that she’d finish it that night.

Once at lunch, Monika grabbed something light again, sleep still stealing her appetite away. _Wish they had coffee._ Scanning the room, she found Yuri, seated next to a head of strawberry blonde hair, a bored expression on her face and the same green book from the day before in her hands. Monika slipped in the bench across from them, earning a surprised look from Yuri and another unreadable expression from Natsuki.

“Monika! Didn’t see you coming over,” Yuri said, lowering her book to the table. “I was just, um, reading.”

“I see that.” Monika’s eyes glanced toward the book. Her mind could drag out the little details just fine, like what books she’d read in the past and her hidden love for fantasy, yet buried everything else underneath. But, the memory of that book finally had a use. “Good book, isn’t it?’

“Hmm? Oh-! Yeah,” Yuri replied with a firm nod. “I usually read horror, but half the literature club has said I should read this.”

“Pfft,” Natsuki spat. “ _Nerds._ ”

Monika’s stare went blank. Her mind pulled her back in, wrapped tendrils around her legs to keep her from moving, and all she could do was watch. Something was on the tile floor, burning, someone else was laughing. ‘ _Nerds,’_ they spat, more laughter in the background.

“It’s not nerdy to read a good book!” Monika could faintly hear Yuri say. “Besides, is manga really such a high ground here? I daresay you’re an even bigger nerd.”

“Whatever,” Natsuki’s voice cut in, distant and hazy. “At least all my favorite characters don’t die all the time.”

A stab of pain shot through Monika’s head. ‘ _Oops,’_ someone said. ‘ _Just leave us alone,’_ Monika’s voice, absent of slur, sobbed. ‘ _C’mon Sayori. Let’s just go._ ’ But someone was shouting now, screaming in rage, threatening physical harm. _‘The girl’s got claws,’_ someone said through a fit of throaty laughter. Theresa. _‘It was just a fucking joke, calm down.’_

Monika’s head steamed, her teeth grinded against each other, and her nails were digging into her arms, _yet I’ve completely dulled them so that’s impossible._ She heard herself sob, beg for Sayori to retreat, to ignore whatever was going on.

“Monika?” Yuri’s voice cut through the static. Her blurred vision cleared, and the cafeteria brightened before her, Yuri’s concerned eyes in front of her.

“Earth to Monika,” Natsuki said, snapping her fingers in front of Monika’s eyes, sending shockwaves through her mind. _Why do people always do that?_

“Hm?” Monika hummed, pretending everything was fine. Her cane had slid down her leg, nearly toppled onto the floor, and she was scratching at her wrist with dull, trimmed nails, but _everything is fine._

“You were spaced out,” Yuri said. “Um, is everything ok?”

“I’m fine,” Monika quickly replied. “Just got lost in thought.”

“Whatever,” Natsuki said, rolling her eyes. “Just nice that I didn’t have to get up. No doubt Yuri would’ve sent me to fetch the nurse.”

“A-are you sure you’re ok?” Yuri leaned against the table a little more, worry painting those dark eyes. “We were just talking about a book and you-”

“It’s ok,” Monika interrupted with a wave of her hand. “I’m fine. Promise.” _Move to a livelier topic._ “So! I hear a festival is coming up.”

Yuri blinked, the worry still there, but Natsuki was happy to cut in. “The literature club’s been preparing our thing! But we still haven’t exactly decided what to do. Everyone else wants boring shit.”

“Um,” Yuri spoke up. “We’ve been meaning to talk about it more, but I’ve been so busy-”

“Reading that damn book,” Natsuki mumbled, earning a sideways glare from Yuri.

“I’ve been thinking about a poetry reading. Just something light for us all to express our abilities in front of a crowd,” Yuri continued.

“Bo-oring,” Natsuki loudly droned. “We need something more exciting! I mean, who wants to hear _poetry_ all night?”

“I’d love to see something like that,” Monika said earning glances from both of them. “Poetry is nice. And people should be free to express what they’ve written.” _Why does all of this feel familiar?_

“See? We’d get an audience! I just need to-” Yuri’s glance dropped to the table, and Natsuki’s scowl deepened enough to kill a person.

“Here comes the Big Bad Bitch,” Natsuki muttered as someone slipped into the bench next to Monika. _Theresa._ She was decorated in her usual regal attire, worthy of a courtroom and not a school, with a fake smile brightly planted on her lips, yet the eyes screamed _I’m better than you._ Monika sighed.

“Can we help you?” Monika asked.

“Now, is that any way to greet someone?” Theresa chuckled. “Hm, but I just wanted to ask about something.”

“Fine,” Monika crossed her arms.

“You went out with Fayce last night, right? Where’d you two go? What’d you do?” Theresa’s intent dark eyes focused deeply on Monika. She tried her best to return it with a glare.

“Dinner, that was all,” Monika replied.

“Just dinner? Because I know what your type wants.”

“ _My type?_ ” Monika’s knuckles turned white around the edge of her cane. _This could totally be used as a blunt instrument._ “Just what do you mean by that?”

Theresa shrugged. “I just want to be sure you’re not forcing my _best friend_ into doing anything she wouldn’t want to normally do,” she said, that accursed smile still on her face, tempting Monika to swipe it off with a skull shattering swing of her own cane, and maybe some more-

“Theresa,” Natsuki sang. “Maybe fuck off?”

Theresa’s eyes went wide, _surprise?_ She turned her gaze to the smaller girl, drew a hard scowl to return. “Who the fuck are you, stir fry? You aren’t involved in this.”

“You’re sitting at _my_ table harassing _my_ friend,” Natsuki snapped. _Friend?_ “It definitely involves me.”

“Oh?” Theresa’s smile dropped a little. “It was just a joke anyways.”

“Just a _joke_ ?” Natsuki stood up, trying and failing at intimidation given that Theresa was still taller even seated. But the rage in those eyes, the sheer venom, could’ve sent Monika running in terror if she’d been on the receiving end. “Like last year? The whole prank bullshit? _Just a joke?_ ”

“Oh come on!” Theresa stood up as well, much taller than the smaller girl. “Even _Yuri_ has to admit that was funny!”

Yuri went wide eyed. “It was not!” she said, louder than her usual quiet tone.

“You paraded someone’s private life about like an asshole!” Natsuki shouted. They were earning some glances now, some stares and whispers. “So what if someone’s gay? Who gives a fuck? If Monika didn’t want anyone to know, that was her business, not yours! And to get Sayori involved in it? What kind of messed up person does that to someone?”

Theresa was nearly ready to mount a comeback, that venom being spit up to her tongue, but someone’s voice rang from the far side of the cafeteria. “Theresa!” _Fayce._ Monika turned, met the girl’s mismatched eyes as she stormed toward the table. “What did I say about this?”

“I was only teasing!” Theresa said, her fake smile finally dying and her expression dropping. “They took it too far.”

“No! Enough of this!” Fayce said, dragging Theresa by the wrist toward the exit and giving Monika an apologetic look. Once they’d left and the usual murmuring of the room continued, Monika sank back into her seat, relaxed and relieved.

“Thanks for the backup,” Monika softly said, looking up at Natsuki.

“Whatever,” the smaller girl said. “I’ll use any chance to get at Theresa. She can be a real bitch sometimes.” A small grin pulled at her cheeks, though.

Yuri nodded her head in agreement. “I saw her harassing you and Sayori last year,” she said. “And-! That stupid prank. None of it was ok.”

 _Prank?_ Monika’s mind was empty. _Of course, it involves Sayori, so there’s nothing there._

The shrill ring of the bell pierced the air, and the crowd began to amass at the door, pushing their way out and tossing trays into trash cans. On their way out, Yuri stopped Monika.

“So, um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” She hesitantly asked. “If that’s ok, I mean.”

“Of course,” Monika smiled. They waved goodbye, and Monika went about her day.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFFY. 
> 
> Also, much love to all of you, for all your support! I love reading the comments, seeing that I'm writing something that you're enjoying (so far). If it wasn't for you (yes you, the current reader), this whole story would still be at chapter two, halfway abandoned on my computer somewhere. So, again, thank you!

The clock on the far wall ticked away, an infernal sound that rocked Monika’s mind with every little beat. Her fingers found themselves wandering to her arm, but she traced the wooden ridges of her worn cane, resisting the temptation. The leather of the exam bed groaned under her with every movement. Next to her, seated behind a sturdy desk, was the familiar greying face of Doctor Robert Anderson, typing away at his computer, another wretched noise that clicked at her ears.

“Everything seems to be progressing well,” his deep, scratchy voice cut in. He spun his chair around to face her. “Any specific problems? Changes in mood, sleep patterns?”

She’d restlessly tossed and turned in bed the previous night, struggling to relax, to close off her wandering mind. She’d woken with maybe three hours of sleep. It certainly hadn’t been the first time that happened either, though she mostly blamed it on getting used to the rough, beaten condition of her brain. Last night, she’d blamed the nightmare. “I’ve struggled to sleep some nights,” she chose to admit, twiddling her thumbs in her lap.

“Oh? A side effect of one of your medications, fairly common when the dosage needs to be lowered a bit.” He turned back to the computer, fiddled with the mouse. “Your dosage hasn’t actually been touched in a month!” he chuckled. “We’ll lower it a bit. Should help out.”

“Also,” she cleared her throat. It didn’t seem like a medical problem, yet the way she’d been absorbing information from the other classes, the way she struggled intently in math no matter how much she focused or studied, seemed a call for concern. “I’m, um, having problems with math.”

The doctor furrowed an eyebrow.

“It’s the numbers,” she quickly continued. “And the formulas. I can’t, like, absorb them. I’ll listen to the teacher talk, write everything down, but it’s like I forget only a few seconds later.”

The doctor hummed, typed something, and spent some seconds scrolling. “Sometimes, certain learning disorders that children most commonly suffer from can be acquired later in life, through injury and the like. We’re still not entirely sure of how deep the damage is on your brain, but I think there could be something there.”

“Like what?”

“Well, the symptoms you’re describing amount to dyscalculia,” the doctor replied. “Some cases of brain damage have led to it. We’ll run some tests on your next visit, but in the meantime, I’ll get in touch with your school, let them know about this.”

“Thanks,” Monika faintly smiled. _Just something more wrong with me._ She still had that damned worksheet to do as well, fruitlessly scribbled with patched notes, no problems solved. It sat on her desk that morning, taunting her. _Almost burned it._

“Well, that’s about all there is today,” Doctor Anderson switched off the computer, made his way to the door, Monika in tow. “If you have any serious changes before your next appointment, please call me.”

“I will,” Monika assured. After parting ways, she wandered down the familiar hospital halls, retracing her steps to Tessa’s office.

Her own home was still foreign to her. She could picture the dense layout, knew where the hall led, where the stairs were, what the kitchen was equipped with, and where her room was, but there was a constantly foul air there, like she didn’t belong. And it wasn’t just the scent of alcohol that triggered it. She’d found old family pictures stuffed away in her father’s room, studied her own younger face, trying to trigger a memory or two, but it gave her nothing. Once, she’d been tempted to open the constantly closed door into the other bedroom, but everytime she put her hand on the knob and tried to twist, it was like another worldly force was deflecting her, forcing her away. So, she’d left it closed.

The strangest thing was the lack of pictures of mother.

Faint glimmers of her mother had been stuffed to the back of her mind, left ignored. What few memories she’d dwelled on hinted at abuse, at drunken rants and threats, fights where vases or silverware were thrown around, and she hadn’t worked up the desire to pursue that any further. Her father refused to talk of her. He claimed it wasn’t something she needed to remember. _Yet that shouldn’t be his choice._ When pressed further, he’d talk of how she was once a good person, but didn’t touch on anything else.

There, in the halls of the hospital she’d spent two and a half months she could remember, she felt far more at home. She could find her way back to the room she’d stayed in. Some of the nurses gave her smiles and waves, as though friends and family. Monika hadn’t even seen her father since the morning before. He’d left her a note saying that he was called into work early, left her money for the bus. _Familiar._

Upon entering, Tessa drew the blinds, shutting out the rising morning sun, and Monika switched off the fluorescent lights hanging from above. The dull throb in her head died a bit. It was rare for the pain to go below that level, to drop to anything below a slight migraine, but it was preferable to the crushing earthquake that brutally rocked it upon first awakening. Monika slid into the chair across from Tessa, said her usual greetings as Tessa finished up whatever she was doing on the bright computer.

“So,” the elderly woman said with a smile. “You’ve been back at school for, what, two days?” Monika nodded a confirmation. “How’s everything going?”

“Good, I think,” Monika replied. Before returning, her mind had constructed glass houses, scenes of torture and hatred, of scorn and malice, but most of what she’d gotten had been passing glances, silenced whispers, and the attention of some new people she was coming to perhaps call friends.

“You think?” Tessa tilted her head.

“No serious incidents so far,” Monika said. “There’s one girl, a bit of an arrogant sort, who’s been rather harsh, but I haven’t heard many insults or anything.”

“And friends?”

“Three, maybe?” Monika gave a puzzled glance at nothing specific. Natsuki had referred to her as a ‘friend’ the day before, though as she said afterward, it had been during an argument with Theresa, and Natsuki seemed willing to take any shots she could at the girl. Yuri and Fayce had been friendly thus far, Yuri eagerly chatting at lunch and after school, while she’d had a pleasant dinner with Fayce and exchanges of adorable kitten gifs and pictures over texts the previous night.

“Well, maybe you should pursue these ‘maybes.’ Make something real,” Tessa softly said.

 _Real._ That had been her goal from the start. _Build something real._ Still the world around her felt hazy, and her memories were disconnected, but the interactions with the other people around her had built fresh memories she could easily cling to. Her past was a blur. Her present was bright and clear.

“I’m going to try,” she said. “Though I’m starting to have memories wash up of someone else.”

“Hm?”

“A girl, a friend in the past, I think.” Monika paused, thought for just a brief moment. “People keep bringing her up, but I can barely remember anything. Someone mentioned that she’d moved away, someone else mentioned a… worse fate.” Monika’s nails ran down the wood of her cane.

“Do you know anything concrete about this person?”

“A name, Sayori,” Monika replied. “She was in my coma, I think.” _Coma dream. Fake reality. A world built out of desperation._ “If I had a last name, I might try and do something, but no one seems to know it.”

“Mhmm…” Tessa folded her hands on the desk. “What would you do if you found her?’

“I…” _Haven’t thought about it._ Yet the drive was there, the overwhelming desire to pull the fabric on this mystery, to look at the truth and resign herself to dealing with whatever the consequences were. “I’d talk to her. Get some answers, maybe.”

“Well,” Tessa began with a small cough. “How long before your, how shall we say, _incident,_ did this Sayori girl leave?”

“I don’t know for sure.” Monika could recall Fayce mentioning something about it being on top of her depressing rejection from the literature club, how it was just before her attempt. _Connected strands. But the question remains: Did Sayori just contribute in some way, or was she the cause?_ But of course, that always led to another question: _Do I really want to know?_ If Sayori’s disappearance had something to do with her own decision to string the rope around her neck, why would she want to pursue it further? Perhaps the blanket was there to protect Monika, to hide the truth of dire trauma. Perhaps her mind needed it hidden to keep sane in this new world.

She recalled the dream from the night before last. The venom on Sayori’s voice, the way she said it was Monika’s fault, _some sort of confession._ ‘Confession’ carried a certain meaning in her father’s culture, yet that definition was stretched more in America, able to refer to any serious revelation, and it wasn’t like Monika had grown up in her native country. It had also just been a dream. Dreams were often the ponderings of philosophers and theologists alike, but for all Monika knew, it was just a pointless projection with no real meaning. _Yet it had been so vivid…_

“Monika?” Tessa said, voice lined with concern. “Are you there?”

“I am now,” Monika replied.

______________________

 

The uneventful, boring bus ride to school mercifully ended with Monika staggering down the metal steps, careful not to trip over her own struggling legs and face plant onto the cold steel. The wobbling down earned some curious looks, which she returned with a bright smile. Outside, heavy, sticky snow fell in the humidity, grappling onto walls and clinging to the side of trees, coating everything in mystical white sheet that forced Monika to avert her struggling eyes. At least the clouds had spared her the sun. With a text to her father informing him she’d made it to school, she wandered through the thick crowd.

At least she had an excuse ready for Ms. Bynes. On her own, she’d never figure out how Algebra II worked, and that worksheet would remain unfinished for eternity, so she needed to enlist help. Once the class was over and Monika had bore the shrill bell, she walked up to the teacher’s desk, returning the wide smile.

“Monika! Hello again, dear,” Ms. Bynes said with that motherly voice. Monika fished the worksheet out of her bag, held it in her hand.

“Um,” she began, damning the slur that ruined any attempt at a confident voice. “I’ve been spending time trying to figure all of this out, but I can’t seem to solve anything.” _You know, that could actually apply to my entire life right now._

“I understand,” Ms. Bynes said.

“You… do?” Monika blinked.

“I got word from the office, we discussed something your doctor had mentioned,” Ms. Bynes said. “We don’t quite have a program for students with dyscalculia here, but I do have a suggestion, if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“A tutor!” Ms. Bynes said with more than needed enthusiasm. It’d been exactly what Monika was about to propose anyway. “I have a couple candidates in mind, but do you know Yuri Nageo? She hasn’t tutored anyone before, but she’s one of my best students.”

 _That’s convenient._ “I’m aware of her,” Monika said. She’d been afraid of being presented with some stranger who’d know her past, who’d shy away at assisting her or grow frustrated at her handicaps. With someone she knew, that fear was somewhat assuaged.

“Good!” Ms. Bynes shuffled some papers around. “I can give you her number so you can-”

“No need,” Monika cut in. Of course, Monika would likely see Yuri at lunch, and it felt more _right_ to ask her for personal info like a phone number rather than have to receive it from a teacher. With that, Monika said her farewells, and found her way to the next class.

With more boring lectures out of the way, she trailed into lunch, but found Yuri’s usual spot empty, devoid of either the tall girl or her shorter, more blond companion. Even as she slid into the bench and slowly munched on a heavier meal than usual, no one showed. Theresa’s loud voice echoed in the cafeteria, or Monika was just focusing on it. The scorned bully didn’t seem interested in her though. She was seated next to Fayce and a few other impeccably dressed seniors, joking and laughing. Fayce’s mismatched eyes looked up, found Monika, and the girl gave a sunny smile and a strong wave, returned by Monika’s weaker grin and still weaker wave. She’d been tempted to saunter over to them, to slide into the bench and say her hellos, just to see some reactions.

She’d been popular once. Perhaps not in the real world, but she still remembered the feeling, how everyone would stare in envy or adoration. She’d begun missing that sweet feeling. It was fake, of course, drawn together by her mind to keep her appeased, but if she could just recapture that feeling…

Yet Theresa’s words seemed to follow her everywhere. Insults casually thrown her direction, screaming matches at the lockers, physical altercations on the outside pavement that resulted in a suspension for the both of them. She’d always seemed to have support, wherever she went.

Sometimes Monika swore she saw those golden and blue hues in scattered memories. The two mismatched orbs that had given her such a soft gaze, invited her to release her troubles to Fayce, the colors that were quickly becoming Monika’s favorites, yet she was starting to easily see them full of scorn, or a lack of care and empathy.

 _Fayce keeps negative company._ Yet that desire to reach out her hand and see if someone grabs back always permeated at the back of Monika’s mind, further encouraging her.

Her phone vibrated on the table, stealing her away from her thoughts. With a swipe of her finger, she brought up the text.

 _Fayce 11:47:_ **_so i totally have something for u to do. Meet me after school?_ **

The girl in question was moving through the cafeteria now, flanked by her loyal followers, though she gave Monika another wave with an added wink.

 _Monika 11:48:_ **_I totally will. Will have to talk to Yuri before though._ **

_Fayce 11:49:_ **_cool because ive gotta meet her too. Festival prep. Just meet me whenever then_ **

Suddenly, all the suspicion had faded, replaced by that cradling warmth against November’s cool. _Falling for a pretty face,_ Monika chided herself. Yet compared to being dragged through the mud and left friendless, that didn’t seem too horrible.

Monika trailed to her classes, shielding her ears against the bell’s oppression just on time. She almost laughed at the need to do it. Her head was clearly getting better, but the loud sounds still rocked the boat a bit, and she was content with no waves splashing aboard. She bore the rest of the day, absorbing herself in lectures from bored teachers, copying far fewer notes than she had for algebra.

Once the midday sun was giving way to the early evening, the final bell rang, and the students deposited themselves onto the parking lot, fighting to get to their cars and speed away to freedom while the others walked or waited. Monika emerged from the doors, shielded her eyes against the harassing rays of the sun.

With purpose, she strode through the crowd, found her way to the silent side lot, where she spotted Yuri’s head of long, dark hair, seated next to another head of longer, darker hair, and a bouncing thin form whose much shorter hair managed to bounce along with her. Monika propped herself up on the bench, resting her cane against the side.

Yuri looked up from whatever scribbled paper was spread out on the picnic table, though the wideness in her eyes died at the sight of Monika. “Oh. Hey, Monika. Fayce said something about you needing me?”

Fayce gave her a cheerful look. Natuski’s usual guarded expression had been penetrated by a slight tug at her lips, a bright spot in the blue of her eyes.

“I was, actually,” Monika said. “I need a tutor. For algebra.”

“One or two?” Natsuki asked. “‘Cause, I suppose she’s kind of good at math....”

Yuri shot her a look. “Doesn’t matter which. I’ve aced both of them!” She sighed. “S-so, um, tutor? Just in this one class?”

Monika feigned a hurt look. “Because I’m totally not good enough for my other classes! Oh, yes, I need a tutor for english as well. Oh, and not to mention the sheer torture that is Biology! Sometimes it feels like a KGB torture camp!”

Fayce laughed. “Careful, you’ll make her think you’re serious.”

“S-she will not!” Yuri snapped. “I helped Nat with some algebra last year. I can definitely help, if you need it.”

“I’m afraid to say that I’ll be a special case,” Monika said. “It appears I have dyscal- _something.”_

“Dyscalculia” Yuri repeated.

“Dyscula-what now?” Natsuki asked. “Is that, like, a form of cancer?”

“I don’t think cancer affects one’s ability to do math,” Yuri chuckled.

“I’m not a doctor! It could be, like, math cancer or something,” Natsuki said, crossing her arms.

“Math cancer?” Fayce laughed. “Is that terminal?”

“Shut up!” Natsuki snapped, her voice wavering.

“Anyway, Yuri interrupted, turning to Monika. “I’m not the b-best at tutoring, but I can try. We can meet outside the library, after classes?”

Monika shrugged. “Sounds good to me. I just need to be able to get some actual work done…” She grimaced, thinking of three empty classes in a row.

“Yes, that’s what Yuri needs. More to distract her from actually planning the festival,” Natsuki said, a bit of bite at the edge of her tongue.

Yuri waved at the paper on the table. “I _have_ been helping to plan!” she snapped.

Monika fidgeted in her seat, suddenly a tad uncomfortable. Everyone else seemed to be planning something with this festival, from the clubs doing their projects to freelancing students giving their skills out in return for favors or sweets. She’d not been recruited by anyone. _Yet._ She wanted to be useful, to do something for the school instead of sitting around quietly suffering Theresa’s lash. She _could_ be useful.

“Was I interrupting something?” Monika asked.

“No!” Fayce said with a fierce shake of her head. “In fact, you were just on time!”

“On time?”

“I’ve got a job for you!” Fayce scratched the back of her head, fixed some loose strands of dark hair. “I mean, if you want it, anyway. Nothing too big, but a bit vital, I think?”

“Alright,” Monika said, furrowing her brow. “Let’s hear it.”

“Ok! So, um, the school donates money to charity every festival, and usually one of the top students presents which charity the money’s going to. I thought it’d be a good idea to have you do it this year.”

“I-it’s, um,” Yuri cleared her throat. “We’re donating to a depression awareness group. So, some of us thought it might be good for you to be the one to present it.”

“Because of what I went through?” Monika asked.

Yuri’s eyes widened. “No-! I mean, we’re not saying you’re a bad student because that’s the reason you’re presenting it but that it could be a good idea for you to-”

“It’s just a minor thing,” Fayce swooped in, earning a thankful look from Yuri. “You don’t have to do it. I just thought it’d be a good idea, that’s all.”

“So did everyone else,” Yuri added.

Natsuki rolled her eyes. “Not _everyone._ Not even most of them. Which is why you should do it! Take some stuck up pricks down a notch.”

“Natsuki, language!” Yuri scolded. The smaller girl held her hands up in mock surrender, but Fayce giggled and nodded in agreement.

“Ok,” Monika said. Not what she had in mind for being useful, but still fitting, she supposed. _Plus the added benefit of indirectly shaming people like Theresa in front of the entire school._ “I’ll do it!”

“You will?” Fayce’s smile was bright, cheerful. “That’s great~! Literally all you’ll need to do is give a small speech. Hell, if you can’t come up with one, I’ll be happy to show you my draft.”

 _A speech._ All kinds of things flooded Monika at moment, but most of them were better off not said aloud. Had she really desired, she could easily use her platform as a chance to air her grievances with the administration for how they’d so poorly handled her situation, to call out the bullies and encourage people to shame and oust them, but it was meant to be focused on _depression,_ not attacking people. _Plus it could just make more enemies._

“Well, now that that’s settled, we should continue planning the poetry thing,” Fayce said.

“You went with the poetry stand up?” Monika asked, turning a somewhat red faced Yuri.

“I, um, thought it a good idea. Like I said, I-I think it’s a good idea for people to share their writing. Because-! It can help, um, to get your writing out there for others to hear, or read,” Yuri rambled, mincing her words.

“I totally understand,” Monika said, trying to calm the girl’s nerves a little. “I write poetry sometimes,” _sadly not lately,_ “so I know what it’s like to want others to read your stuff.”

“Exactly-!” Yuri said with a small smile.

“I still think it’s dumb, and boring,” Natsuki puffed.

“Oh? And what’s your bright idea on what to do?” Fayce asked with a smirk.

“Something exciting! Something that’ll get a lot of attention!” Natsuki replied, flailing her arms about.

“ _Attention?”_ Yuri blinked. “Did we suddenly need more members when I wasn’t looking? Last I checked, we’re full and everyone knows of us. No, I’d rather this _boring_ event just to show what the members are capable of.”

 _Deja vu._ An overwhelming wave of it, as well. Monika’s head pounded more furiously as she tried to focus, to trace all of this back, to find what was so similar, but she’d still not learned to swim amongst the static ocean.

“Whatever,” Natsuki pouted, crossing her arms. “Just don’t come whining to me when no one shows up to watch. No one but Monika, anyways.”

“What else do we need to plan out for the day?” Fayce asked, sliding the scribbled paper over to her, her mismatched eyes focusing on it. “Until you get some opinions from the rest of your club, I don’t see what else I can help with.”

Yuri’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment, her dark eyes gazing up to the grey coated sky. She softly hummed. “You may be right. I can’t think of anything else.”

“I can!” Natsuki beamed. “Food!”

“For the festival, or…?” Fayce giggled. “‘Cause that’s being handled by the council, not the literature club.”

“Of course not!” Natsuki snapped. “I meant _now.”_

“Oh! In that case, I know exactly where we should go,” Fayce said, gathering her things and stuffing them into her brightly colored bag. “A diner toward the country. Lovely little place.”

“As long as it has food,” Natsuki shrugged.

“I could go for some food as well,” Yuri added.

Three sets of eyes turned to Monika. Almost on queue, her stomach groaned. “I guess I can, too.”

After sorting everything out, packing up supplies, and Monika shooting a text to her father about where she was going, they’d piled into Fayce’s fancy car and hit the road, driving away from the city’s distant steel skyline and out toward the rural flatlands. Thick forests of trees containing repetitive suburban neighborhoods gave way to far reaching plains, endlessly coated in dying grass and bare trees. Monika slipped in earbuds while Yuri and Natsuki argued over something inconsequential.

 _I’ve been down this road before._ The freeway was mostly devoid of life, save the occasional lonesome truck or police car, and highway towns probably not even marked on a map. Every passing sign advertising gas prices, or injury lawyers, or fast food joints, was recognizable, jogging up some buried memory in Monika that she still couldn’t properly focus on. Her head spun. Whatever was there, trying to peek out from the static ocean, remained content to evade her for the moment, and she chose to focus on the soft rap in her ears. _Rap is literature, right?_

It was when they’d veered off the sprawling road and into a tiny town of farmhouses that the memory ambushed her.

Sayori’s mother had worked in the diner they were pulling into. Monika had often come with Sayori and _someone else_ after school, treated to free meals for their dinners. Monika had used it as an escape from her mother’s wrath. They’d sit behind at the far booth, laughing at crude jokes and talk about the day’s events, or tediously do homework and study for tests.

The memories didn’t so much as wash over Monika as pelt her with hail and roaring thunder. Her head went light as the four of them were guided to an empty booth by a cheery waitress, and her nails begged to be guided to skin rather than the wood of her cane.

“Um,” Yuri softly spoke up next to her. “Are you ok, Monika?”

“What?”

“You’re kinda pale,” Natsuki added, concern breaking down the guarded expression she usually wore.

“Do you need to lie down? We can head out to my car if-”

Monika fiercely shook her head, earning a jabbing pain. “I’m fine,” she reassured, her fake smile coming out as more a wince. “Honestly. Just… I used to come here with Sayori, I think.”

“You _think?_ ” Natsuki’s brow stretched.

“It’s, uh, complicated,” Monika replied. “My… _incident,_ left me with some memory troubles.”

“Oh,” Natsuki said in a wavering voice.

“I come here often,” Fayce said, her mismatched eyes moving to the window next to them. “Lots of people from school do. Theresa’s the one who introduced me to it. I think we saw you and Sayori here sometimes, if I remember correctly now.”

“Her mom worked here, did she?” Natsuki asked.

“You know that?” Monika turned to the smaller girl.

“I talked to Sayori sometimes,” the girl said with a shrug of her tiny shoulders. “Her mom picked up the three of you from school almost everyday. But that was years ago, in middle school.”

 _Three?_ The vague shape of someone else was certainly locked away in those memories, standing off in the background or seated next to Monika. Medium length dark hair, equally dark eyes, impeccably dressed. Chiding, arrogant comments said often in sarcasm. _No way. That can’t be-_

“Three of us?” Monika asked, tilting her head.

“Um,” Natsuki shrank into the booth a little. “You don’t remember?”

“There’s something to forget about,” Yuri said with a sad smile, adding her voice to the conversation. “You, Sayori, and Theresa. Inseparable in middle school.”

 _What?_ All those insults, the slurs, the significant contribution to her depression. The way Theresa talked to Sayori in Monika’s memories, the way Sayori’s violent rage would overtake her and cause actual fights between the two girls. _And we were all friends at some point?_

Monika’s mind swirled, spinning once again, sending a jolt of pain down the middle of her brain. She fished and fished, tried to find something to verify it, but found only that vague silhouette peeking out from under the cover of darkness.

“You?” Fayce blinked. “Were friends with Theresa? Oh. _Oh._ That makes sense, actually.”

“It does?” Monika rubbed at her temples. “Because it certainly doesn’t to me.”

“Some things Theresa’s said, some events she’s talked about… yeah, that lines up, actually,” Fayce said.

 _Lines up?_ Maybe those lines were drawn by a child. Monika couldn’t follow them, couldn’t even think of any scenario the three of them could be friends. Theresa’s hatred of the two seemed to run _deep._ What would have driven them apart, or even together in the first place?

Monika’s laughter was bitter and shaky. The other three glanced at her like she’d lost her mind, though she technically had. Her thoughts painted a clear image of Sayori, and Monika could easily see herself getting close to the warm, bubbly, caring girl, but the cold image of Theresa didn’t fit. She’d argued with Theresa in _two_ hostile confrontations already, and she’d been back to school for _three days._

“So, this is clearly a surprise…” Fayce commented, concern in those blue and gold eyes.

“Why didn’t anyone mention this?” Monika asked.

“Well, how could we know you’d forget _that?_ ” Natsuki asked, a little defensive.

“We’re sorry, we should’ve-”

“No, we’re not sorry,” Natsuki interrupted the soft spoken Yuri, earning wide eyed surprise and a glare. “I mean, it’s not our job to know something like that.”

“Natuski, please-”

“It’s alright,” Monika said. “It’s not like I go around advertising that I’ve forgotten half my life.” Her smile was real this time, an attempt at reassurance. The table went quiet, Monika focusing on the dark, caramel colored drink set out before her. Her brain calmed a little. Theresa was still a vague image at the edge of distant memories, but Monika could feel the arrogance, the haughty posture, a hostile presence next to the calming sunshine of Sayori. She couldn’t imagine any scenario where they’d mesh into the same group.

Fayce hummed. “Maybe time for a livelier topic?”

“Like?” Monika asked, stirring her drink a little.

“How much of the city do you remember?” Fayce asked, turning to the window, gazing out at the distant, small skyline of dark, towering steels, the grey clouds turning to a night black overhead, occasionally illuminated by a sharp flash of lightning.

“Not much,” Monika replied. She remembered her mother scolding her for going at one point, insisting it wasn’t safe. _Such a joke, my mother looking out for my safety while she slapped me for the slightest wrong._

“Then we totally need to take you downtown at some point~!” Fayce beamed. “I’ve been meaning to go.”

“I hate the city,” Yuri said, her voice almost a whisper. When Fayce and Natsuki looked over at her, she continued. “I mean-! Too many people. It’s always so crowded, and everyone looks at everyone else, or bumps into them, or tries to shove through the crowd, and it’s so hard to cross the street and it always smells like smog-”

“Yuri, dear, we understand,” Fayce giggled. “I don’t like it all that much either. I’d rather live in Paris, or something.”

“Paris?” Monika asked.

“Yeah~! It seems like such a nice city, and romantic, home to the arts and the like. I went there once, as a child, with my foster parents. That was when I decided I wanted to live there,” Fayce replied. _Foster parents?_

“Cities are stupid,” was Natsuki’s substantial contribution to the discussion. “I’d rather live out here, alone.”

Yuri nodded her head. “A cabin somewhere in the woods, away from the world, free to do as I like…”

Fayce softly laughed. “I could totally see the two of you living out here as an old married couple. Yuri sitting on an old rocking chair, reading some book or another, Natsuki doing yard work and complaining about the lack of help.” She laughed again, harder and livelier.

“A c-couple?” Yuri blinked.

“Married? To _Yuri?!_ ” Natsuki huffed.

Their faces turned away, slightly out of view from one another, but Monika saw the light color in their faces, the curious glances passed between them. She had to choke back the laughter, but Fayce pretended not to notice. Monika got the same image too, of a red faced Natsuki pushing around a heavy lawnmower, chugging down glasses of water as she demanded the stationary Yuri to help, while the dark haired girl would only roll her eyes and go back to reading some book or another.

“Ah, well,” the girl with mismatched eyes sighed. “Dreams for the future, I guess.”

______________________

 

Monika waved goodbye as Fayce pulled away. Natsuki crossed the street, went inside her house, and Monika trailed up her long driveway to her own house. A bright, full moon hung overhead, clear of the earlier storm that had left the ground damp with a sheet of rain, and a cold chill was carried on the breezy wind.

Monika's house reeked of alcohol.

The TV was on, again, but her father was nowhere to be found. An empty whiskey bottle, the label partially scratched off and the glass chipped at the top, sat on the coffee table in front of the unoccupied couch. She tossed it out, found shattered glass on the kitchen floor. She cleaned that up too.

Footsteps creaked upstairs. Monika slowly climbed the steps, her legs working far better than they did the first time she’d made the climb, and she poked her head in her father’s bedroom. He was spread out on his bed, a bottle of beer on the nightstand, surrounded by aluminum cans from different companies that all made alcoholic beverages, and he didn’t stir when she called for him. She slowly closed the door the rest of the way and went into her room, airing the stink out by opening the window and letting the winter chill in.

After a quick shower, she crashed in her bed, bringing the soft blankets around her and closing her eyes, shutting her wandering mind down.

She found herself in the school again.

Not her real school. She still vividly recalled the coma’s school with its never ending hallways, the doors that led to reflected rooms, the windows that peered out into an endless space of bright, swirling colors. At least she’d been liberated of her eternal migraine. Yet, she wondered if there was an escape this time, or if the morning would come and the dream would leave right wherever it had left off.

She wandered along those winding halls, calling for someone, mostly just to hear the sound of her own voice. No other sounds came, save her footsteps. No heater roared, no air conditioner purred, no wind blew against the windows or rain fell outside. No one was in the classrooms, chattering or giving lectures. She was alone, as far as she could tell.

Until she found the only familiar classroom.

She rested her hand on the knob, steeled herself for anything that sat beyond. This fake reality had crashed around her when she’d woke, and she found herself not wanting to return, resenting its entire existence. It was a symbol. A sign. She’d been lonely, abandoned. Her mind created all this, housed her in it, tried to make her forget by surrounding her with fake symbols that were shells of their real world counterparts. If she could, she would’ve set it all on fire, let the flames consume it and bury the ashes where she’d never find them. She’d forget this place.

She had _friends_ now. Real friends.

She pulled the door open anyway, overwhelming curiosity demanding she see what sat beyond.

A tall, slender figure with dark violet hair and eyes sat at the farthest desk, _not real,_ while a much smaller girl with bright pink hair done up in two fledgling twintails stood at the window, _not real._ Sayori was seated on the teacher’s desk. _Not real._

Sayori gazed up, met Monika’s eyes, and smiled. With a snap of her fingers, Monika’s head pounded, and she recoiled and closed her eyes tightly, blocking out all the visual noise. Static filled the black void behind her eyes. _An ocean of it._ She was swimming in it now, she knew. Submerging herself under the waves, diving as low as she could go, holding her breath and suffering the pain filling her lungs.

When the pain faded, Monika’s eyes opened to Sayori jumping up and wrapping her in a tight hug. Monika didn’t return it. _Not real._ Yuri and Natsuki were nowhere to be found.

“You’re back!” Sayori said, excitement filling her voice. “I knew you’d come back. You miss me, don’t you?”

“What?” Monika’s voice echoed faintly all around her.

“I was watching you, earlier,” Sayori said, pulling out of the hug. “You went back to the diner! Maybe you wanted to ask me something, now?”

Monika blinked. Sayori, or the shade imitating her, beamed a bright smile back to Monika, her blue eyes full of joy. “What would I ask?”

Sayori cocked a brow. “How should I know? But, you remembered me! The fun we used to have with mom! And Theresa, I suppose.” The girl looked faintly off into the distance. “I liked her once, y’know.”

“I still can’t believe we were friends with her,” Monika said, her thoughts spilling out without intent. She blinked. _I didn’t say that. I didn’t mean to say it. This thing has no answers for me. It’s not real._

“She was nice once. Fayce’s right. She’s always had a softer side… but you ruined that when you told her, y’know, about what you are.” Sayori frowned. “I didn’t like her after that.”

“She didn’t like us either,” Monika said, once again unbidden.

“Nope! Oh, the fights we had afterwards, up until…” Sayori’s face screwed up, only briefly, but that bright smile returned. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t help you in the way you might want,” Sayori said, putting a finger to her chin. “Hmmm… what about your mother’s room? She had things. Pictures, I think. Maybe they’ll help?”

“What?” Monika blinked.

Yet when her eyes opened, she was back in her bedroom, turned over in her bed. Darkness still reigned outside. The moon was brightening the empty street, the car in front of Natsuki’s house, her own room. Cold wind blew inside through the open window, no regard for Monika’s warmth, and she slid it closed. _2:52 AM_ her phone read back to her on its bright screen. She yawned, fruitlessly tried to slip back into sleep, but the weight of Sayori’s words sat at the edge of her now fully awake mind.

_What about your mother’s room?_

The hallway reek had aired out through the open bathroom window, and her dad was still sound asleep in his bedroom. Monika stopped in front of the closed door, her hand resting on the freezing knob. The memories were flooding her now. Her mother giving her backhanded slaps, chiding, insulting words that clawed away her self confidence, her father’s negligent reactions. Rage washed over her. She swung the door open with more force than she’d intended.

The master bedroom was coated in a thick layer of dust. The wide bed in the middle had been stripped bare of blankets, leaving just the mattress. Picture frames on the polished wood wardrobe had been turned onto their faces, obscuring their images, and empty frames hung from the walls. A US Navy flag was draped over the window. Monika flipped on the light.

She began with the turned over pictures, remembering the word from Sayori. Images of her dad and the increasingly familiar face of her mother stared back at her; mountains behind them, or an ocean, or at a wedding, or onboard a flight. She rummaged through drawers and the closet, finding old, pretty clothing, journals detailing deployments overseas, badges and medals, scuffed shoes. A single chest of rotting wood sat deep in the closet under thick fur blankets and discarded curtains, labeled with the word _Monika._

With a huff, she pulled the heavy chest out, dropped it on the bare mattress. The lock was easy enough to break. Discarding the used wrench, Monika flipped the chest lid open. The top was protected by a thin, dusty rag, and under it rested books of baby pictures, yearbooks from elementary and middle school, old diaries that Monika didn’t have any memory of writing. Old, torn pictures of her mother and her at various places, or all dressed up and with smiles painted on their faces. Pictures of Monika and a dark haired Sayori, a blonde haired Sayori, a pink haired Sayori. Picture of her, Sayori, and a much younger, but still recognizable, version of the sophisticated Theresa.

It was like dropping down into a well of static. Memories unfolded before her, images unveiled by the pictures in her hands. Theresa leading the two of them down distant park trails, taking pictures of the city’s skyline, or gathered around a table lamenting upcoming tests and exams with books spread out before them. Monika confiding _it_ with Theresa.

 _‘It’s not right for girls to have crushes on other girls,’_ Theresa had said. Monika had argued, resisted. She liked Sayori. She found men repulsive, more capable of being friends than anything more, but there was attraction to her closest friend. _‘Freak,’_ Theresa had snapped, and stormed off.

Theresa never told anyone, thankfully. Not until the prank, it seemed, but Monika found no threads there.

She piled everything back into the chest, closed it and hauled it back to its place. The house was suddenly suffocating. Alcohol permeated the air, stained with the memories of her father’s denial and ignorance. She saw her mother’s scornful face, felt the pain of her supposed discipline. Rage sank in over Theresa. Guilt surrounded Sayori, though she couldn’t understand why.

Her blankets crumpled under her gasp. She fought the desire to scratch, to open the skin, to bleed the rage and depression into the bathroom sink. She trimmed them until it hurt to trim further. Sleep wouldn’t find her, even as her phone told her it was nearly four in the morning.

She needed someone to talk to. She needed to escape the oppression of the house around her.

Monika had only two registered contacts - her dad, and Fayce. Without thinking, she opened her messaging app, found the conversations between her and her new friend with mismatched eyes that felt warm and inviting.

 _Monika 3:42:_ **_I can’t sleep._ **

It was pointless, she knew. Fayce was likely sound asleep. She turned over in her bed, shut her eyes tight, opened them when she heard the phone vibrate on her nightstand.

 _Fayce 3:46:_ **_sleep is for the weak_ **

Monika giggled.

 _Fayce 3:47:_ **_look out for my car_ **

_Monika 3:47:_ **_Why? Am I going somewhere?_ **

_Fayce 3:48:_ **_somewhere peaceful. Youll like it_ **

Monika pulled on some clothes, tightened a jacket over her shirt, and emerged onto the front porch, taking in the November air. Wind brushed past her. It was silly, probably stupid, that she was trusting someone she’d known for all of three days to take her out somewhere in the dark hours of the morning. Yet, her mind cleared up just by being outside of the house, the fog lifting and granting her mercy. She lounged against the wall. Her father was passed out from drink and would likely never notice.

Fayce pulled up before she could dive into her mind again. Monika slipped into the passenger seat, embraced by the car’s heat from the vents, a soft acoustic tune filling her ears and relaxing her into the seat. Wordlessly, Fayce began driving, first out of the neighborhood, then out toward the city. Monika eyed the brightly lit skyline, the towers drowning in a sea of stars and flanked by the moon. Fayce drove them into a side road of gravel and dirt.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Monika finally asked. Fayce rolled the car to a soft stop.

“The greatest place on the planet to relax,” Fayce replied with a small smile. She wasn’t wearing the makeup she usually had on during the day, and Monika saw the dark bags around her mismatched eyes, the worry marks on her forehead. Fayce climbed out of the car, popped the trunk open, and retrieved a bag. Monika followed her along a narrow trail, then into the thick, dark woods, where the moon couldn’t guide them and Fayce had to pull out her phone and flip on the flashlight to see.

At the clearing, Monika was left breathless.

They were close to the city, elevated on a large hill, the skyline towering overhead. Groups of brightly lit towers clung together in rows, illuminating the winding, calm streets below, where cars slowly drove along an open road. Monika could see the neon signs of businesses flashing in the dark, advertising bars and restaurants, nightclubs and taverns. She could hear the honking of horns, the bustling of the pedestrians below. Above it all, the massive, pale moon watched it all.

Fayce zipped her duffle bag open, pulled out some light blankets, spread a heavy comforter out on the dead grass. She settled in under her own blanket, placed another one down, motioned for Monika to lay beside her. Monika’s bleary mind happily obeyed. The comforter under her was soft against her back, and the thin blanket over her did a surprising job at keeping the November chill away. Monika’s eyes scanned over the city, her ears tuned to the relaxing bustle below.

“It’s beautiful,” Monika whispered.

Fayce turned over to face her, mismatched eyes stained with stress and that familiar sting of insomnia. “My brother used to take us here, when things got overwhelming.”

“Your brother?”

“Technically not my brother by blood. He was my foster parents’ son,” Fayce replied, a distant look in her eyes. _Spacing out._ Monika turned back to the city, let the girl have her space to think, to pick through memories like Monika always did. Moments passed in serene silence.

“I don’t just hate this city because it’s dull, and stinks,” Fayce said. “When my brother moved away, I didn’t have anyone left. My foster parents try, but they don’t really _get_ me. Everyone at school just likes me because I can manage projects, assemble clubs, and I’m popular because of sports, but no one there understands me.” Her mismatched eyes drifted back out to the city.

“What about Theresa?” Monika asked.

Fayce puffed air out of her nostrils. “Theresa’s nice, and always there for me, but she sees through me like everyone else does. She’s so haughty that she doesn’t _want_ to see anyone but herself.”

“Then why are you friends?” Monika found herself pressing again, softer in tone this time. “I remember her pride as well, her contempt for the world around her. How can someone like that be a good friend?”

“It seems you were once friends with her, too,” Fayce said, turning back to Monika. “Somewhere, in that forgetful brain of yours, should be that softer side, the side you wanted to be friends with.”

Monika remembered the laughter. She remembered the adventures into thick woods and private farmland. _If I didn’t trust her, if I was never friends with her, or close to her, then why did I tell her one of my darkest secrets?_ She wondered if that compassion, that bright, cheery mood, was somewhere still buried in the girl. She wondered if that was what Fayce saw.

“This city is full of people who don’t care. They don’t take the time to enjoy life, to listen to their friends’ words and take them to heart, to understand those around them. It’s all business. At school, everyone wants to party and graduate. No time for deeper meanings.” Fayce giggled. “Sorry if I’m turning too philosophical on you. God, I sound like Yuri sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Monika said. “I kind of understand what you mean, too.”

“Really?” Fayce’s eyes brightened.

“Yeah.” Monika remembered the crippling loneliness that strung around her like a deadly viper. The abandonment. How everyone saw through her, how she stalked the halls of school feeling like a ghost. “When Sayori left, or whatever, I felt so _alone._ It was just me against the world’s hatred.” _Different experiences, similar outcomes._

Fayce hummed. “Were you and Sayori…?” _No ending to that question needed._ The entire school seemed to know Monika’s secret, and considering her closeness to Sayori, it was no surprise assumptions could be made.

“No,” Monika replied. “I don’t think so. I don’t remember, anyway.”

“But you do remember Sayori? The way you’d asked about her, I’d almost think she dropped out of that brain of yours entirely.”

“It’s coming back to me,” Monika replied. _Slowly. But I can see it._

“Like in the diner, earlier?”

Monika nodded, her chin brushing her chest. “It all came back in a wave. So much there. It was overwhelming, brutal.”

“I saw it in your eyes,” Fayce said. “That thoughtful expression you always get when you curl back into that brain of yours. I can’t imagine having my memories locked away from me, like a parent keeping the snacks away from a child.”

 _An apt analogy. Equally as frustrating._ Monika’s laugh was soft, _real,_ with no trace of bitterness or pain. “A result of my brain damage. That, and an infernal headache.”

Fayce shifted uncomfortably. “Brain damage,” she echoed.

“Yeah.” Monika moved her gaze down to the grass, to the city. “I didn’t just fail at suicide, I completely botched it. Guess I split my head open.”

“Damn,” Fayce whispered. “Guess you do have reason to hate this city. Only monsters force someone to go that far.”

“Yeah,” Monika said, her voice drifting.

Fayce was quiet a moment. When Monika’s eyes moved back, Fayce’s stare was intent, mismatched eyes screwed with _is that… pain? Sorrow?_ “My parents,” Fayce started, her voice wavering. “They died down there. One of the back streets. A bus hit their car. It trapped me in the system, until I found my current foster parents. I’ve been trying to escape ever since.”

“That’s… awful,” Monika said. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? Were you driving the bus?” Fayce shook her head. “It is what it is.”

Fayce’s mismatched eyes were still gazing softly into Monika’s, unyielding and unmoving. _An ocean and a crown._ Fayce was close, her warm body almost pressed against Monika, her features bathing in moonlight, her breath mingling with Monika’s. A wave of calming, of serenity, washed over Monika as she gazed into the deepness of those tired eyes. _Everything will be ok,_ they seemed to say, pulling her into their soft, relaxing embrace. She was tempted to scoot closer, to nuzzle against Fayce, to be absorbed by the colors of her eyes.

“What?” Fayce asked with a giggle.

“Your eyes…” Monika found herself softly replying. _Water and a crown. Frigid and hot. Ice and fire._

“Heterochromia,” Fayce answered the unasked question. “My mother had it too. I’ve got the eyes of both of my parents.”

“They’re pretty,” Monika said, unbidden, though the words drew a brighter smile from the girl laying next to her. _Stillness and serenity._

“You should get some sleep,” Fayce whispered, pulling the blanket closer around Monika, inadvertently _or maybe intentionally_ pulling her closer. “No school tomorrow. Just sleep as long as you need too. I think we both need it.”

Monika’s eyes drifted closed, consumed her with a dreamless void. The comforter was like a bed of fur, the blanket over her blocking out the world and keeping her safe, and the girl next to her like a roaring fire in the midst of a violent winter storm. She slept to the image of those mismatched eyes.

_Blue and gold._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to the beautiful tune of Tesseract's album Altered State.


	6. Six

Mercifully, the November air had been dragged away with the wind, leaving behind a warm, sunny day. Outside, the city streets were crowded with people fitting in last minute Thanksgiving shopping, or rushing home from their ending work shifts, or just enjoying the nice weather before December’s wrath arrived. Stores were crowded and employees swamped and plagued with fatigue. Restaurants were full of loud chatter, the clanking of forks on plates, and the appetizing scent of cooked foot.

Monika set aside her finished plate, downed the rest of her drink, her usual routine of pills washing down with it. Fayce was staring down at the phone in her hands, idly picking at her food. She hadn’t yet said a word. It’d been her idea to head into the city when they’d woken, her idea to eat, but she had spent most of the time glued to her phone. _Us Millennials are weird._

Monika snapped her fingers in Fayce’s face, the same way everyone did to her when she spaced out. Mismatched eyes found Monika, and a small, albeit somewhat fake, smile tugged at Fayce’s lips.

“Everything ok?” Monika asked with a tilt of her head at the phone.

“Yeah,” Fayce said with a strong nod. “Yes, everything’s fine. Sorry for not being the best company.”

“Who’re you texting?”

“Theresa,” Fayce replied. “Talking about festival prep. She has some… reservations about some things.”

“I think I can guess at least one of them,” Monika said with a bitter chuckle. Fayce’s reaction was blank, and her eyes went back down to the phone with a frustrated sigh.

Monika gazed out the window, watched the pedestrians go by and every face blend into the crowd. For weeks, she’d just wanted to be invisible, to blend into the crowd as well, to just be another faceless person no one cared about. Yet something else in her mind was clicking. Deep within the static, buried behind a wall of other conflicting feelings, had been the desire to stand out, to be popular again _but for real this time._ After the memories of Theresa broke the dam, the feeling only intensified. If Monika could make friends with a person like _that_ then surely she could get along with others, be as known and liked as Fayce.

The festival could’ve been a good start. She’d been mulling over the speech, ironing out the big details, trying to think up a halfway decent draft. She wanted it to be genuine. She wanted the entire school to understand the plight they’d contributed to, and to help them move forward and become better people. _If only I could find the words needed._

 _First things first, though._ Being able to see Theresa again in images of friendship had brought a few questions Monika needed answered, in addition to the single big one that she’d had since Theresa had mentioned _copycat_ about Sayori.

 _If I could just find Sayori...._ The girl was becoming less of an enigma. Unlike before, Monika finally had an understanding of who the girl was, _what_ she’d been to Monika, but that only left Monika longing to reach out and ask what happened to drive them apart. Sayori’s fate had been left undecided as well. Theresa’s words had suggested Sayori was gone in more ways than one, but everyone else seemed to think she had moved away. Theresa seemed to know something everyone else didn’t, which brought the trail to her.

“Monika?” Fayce’s soft voice called out. Monika turned back, found the phone out of sight.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. You were just spaced is all.” Fayce laughed. “Guess we’re both having that kind of day, huh?”

“Guess so,” Monika laughed too. She rubbed at her chin for a second, staring off at the rest of the establishment’s patrons. “I’m going to talk with Theresa on Monday, before the break. I want to ask her something.”

“About Sayori?”

Monika nodded, softly so as to not rock her head. “Do you think she’ll answer?”

Fayce’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment. “If you get her alone, probably. But who knows with that girl nowadays?” Fayce munched at her chips, scorn filling those mismatched eyes.

“Thought the two of you were friends,” Monika commented, regretting her choice of words only a moment later. _Need to learn how to bite my tongue when the rage comes through._ But Fayce’s expression didn’t change.

“She can get like this sometimes, when she feels like she knows what’s best for everything. Sometimes I think she disagrees with me just for the sake of being contrary.” Fayce’s spent a minute in silence, her expression softening around the cracks. “I liked that about her, once,” she quietly mumbled.

“I think I did too,” Monika said. Images of passionate arguments, still friendly in nature, filled her mind at times, almost reminiscent her of her interactions with Yuri back in her coma. Monika had found herself disagreeing with Theresa most of the time, on simple things like _what food was better_ or _which book is the best in the series_ , but it never seemed to have gone bitter or poisonous. Sayori would be off to the side, fighting fits of laughter at how ridiculous the two were. _Almost seems like we were happy._

Fayce fidgeted with her thumbs, suddenly looking uncomfortable in the crowd. She’d peer around, shrink away from passing gazes. “Can we go?” she softly asked, almost quiet enough that Monika couldn’t hear.

“If you want,” Monika replied.

Fayce’s pace was quick as they paid and left, hurrying down the streets and through the bustling crowds back to the lot Fayce had parked in. Monika’s legs continued to fight against her. Her cane quickly tapped the concrete sidewalk as she tried to keep up with Fayce’s speed, but her legs were tripping under her, and she silently kept cursing the rising dizziness in her head. Just before she could call out to Fayce, ask for her to slow down, Monika tripped over her own foot and crashed down onto the ground.

With the pain bubbling in her skull, she snapped her eyes shut, blocked out the excruciating rays of the midday sun. The world spun around her. Even in the darkness from behind her eyes, the floor seemed to have risen to the sky, and she was starting to fall upwards and into space. Around her, people kept walking, some asking if she was alright, but she put her back against a wall and sat there for a moment, waiting out the piercing sting in her brain, the burning in her legs.

Someone sat beside Monika, brushed a finger over the stinging region on her cheek. “Shit,” Fayce’s voice whispered. “Are you ok? Monika?”

Monika spent a few minutes like that, in the darkness of her own mind, shutting out the sound and light around her until the world righted itself and she wasn’t joining the stars. Fayce’s hand rested on her knee, whispering apologies, said her sorries for speeding so fast, then quieted and waited alongside Monika.

“Better?” Fayce asked when Monika’s eyes slid open and she flinched at the sun overhead.

“Kind of,” Monika weakly replied.

Fayce shuffled closer. No one paid them any mind as the crowds continued about their day. “Sorry, I just… needed to leave, get somewhere open, that’s all. I shouldn’t have gone so fast.”

“It’s fine,” Monika lied.

“Doubtful,” Fayce bitterly laughed. The girl stood up, reached a hand out for Monika to pull her to her aching feet. Monika leaned her weight against the cane, planting the tip firmly into the hard ground and leaving no room for another accidental tumble. “C’mon, let’s go.”

With their arms linked, Monika’s walking was far easier than with just the wooden stick she carried around. Monika leaned into the other girl as the dizziness continued to subside. Onward they went, through the city streets and up a few staggering levels of a parking garage, until Monika was settled in the passenger seat of Fayce’s car.

There weren’t any unread messages on her phone when she checked once they were on the road. Her father didn’t even seem to notice she was gone. _Probably thinks it’s Monday and I’m at school._ She sighed as she clicked the lock button.

Her mind had tried to tell her, when she first woke from the coma. Those were amongst the first memories to spill out. Her father, drinking and negligent, promising he’d change and things would get better whenever Monika called him out on it, and blissfully ignoring the abuse from her mother. He gave the same speech when she was in the hospital, with the same unsurprising results.

“The city can be suffocating sometimes,” Fayce said after a time.

“What?”

“Back there, in the city, when I was talking about Theresa…” Fayce paused. They were speeding down the freeway now, away from the urban sprawl and into the rural countryside of flat plains and dead grassland. Monika watched it all pass by. “She can crawl up into my nerve sometimes, stay there until she becomes a pest. Once, I liked it because she was at least paying attention, and it gave me someone to latch onto. Now?” She scoffed.

Monika continued to look out the window, to let the girl speak. Fayce let out a sigh. “With the festival, Theresa’s worse than ever. I think she’s jealous that I’m running most of the project. She complained about me helping Yuri and her club get setup! Thought I was preferring them to the rest of the school, or some bullshit like that.”

“She was my first friend, when my brother moved away. He’d been my only friend when I was younger, the only person who cared, and here came Theresa in my freshman year, all lonely and haughty and intent on making a name for herself. I thought that attaching myself to that would help bust me out of that hole.” Fayce’s words were spliced up, hesitant. “I complain about the city, how everyone just sees through each other, yet I’m hypocritical enough to be with the worst of them.”

Silence reigned in for a bit. Monika let the minutes tick away as the distant skyline disappeared. For a moment, she wondered where Fayce was taking her, but then she remembered that she didn’t really care. Her home was more just a house she would sleep in than somewhere she could call safe and comfortable. Fayce’s car was more relaxing. _Getting way too attached to this girl._

“Why are you friends with her?” Monika finally asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, her words confidant. There was an unsaid “ _still”_ in that sentence.

Each time Monika had asked the question, the answer wasn’t the truth. “Because there are things I want back,” Fayce answered this time.

“Like?”

Fayce started, stopped, started again, her voice wavering, her words unsure. Monika patiently waited. “When I was making new friends, branching out, becoming popular, Theresa was always there to nudge me forward, always cheering me on. She was the loudest in the crowd when I won my first track, y’know? She didn’t look through me like everyone else. She understood. I didn’t know what had happened to her, I still don’t know, to drive her into her own kind of loneliness, but we broke each other out of those cages.” She paused, took a deep breath. “There were times I thought we could’ve been more. Maybe that interest was what threw her off, or maybe it was when our junior year started and she started viewing me more as competition. I don’t know.”

Monika hummed. It almost seemed… _familiar_ to her. Like a memory she could reach out and touch. “You want that sort of thing back,” Monika said, no trace of questions on her voice.

“No,” Fayce replied. “I want the image I built up in my head. I want _more._ She doesn’t, didn’t. So long as those feelings are there, we can’t go back to what we were.” Her breath was shaky. “Maybe it’s my own fault. Maybe I should’ve been content with what we had, or maybe I was too quick with my feelings.”

“Her decisions are never your fault,” Monika said. “She lost you, not the other way around.”

“One day, those words may sink in,” Fayce said with a cold laugh.

They grew silent again. Fayce’s expression was thoughtful as they turned onto abandoned back roads. Soft rock melodies filled Monika’s ears, and she relaxed into her seat, her eyes bouncing around the sparse trees outside. The midday sun was setting over the horizon by the time they came to a stop, darker clouds rolling in from the distance. A colder chill was carried on the wind.

They were in a park. Trails disappeared back into the thick forest brush, flanking a still river. Only a few others were there, silent fishermen on phones or with headphones on, a family grilling next to a park bench, teenagers whooping and laughing at something. Monika followed Fayce through the park, the question of _where_ never crossing her mind. She’d trusted Fayce the previous night, so she would trust her again.

Besides, it wasn’t like she was itching to get home.

They followed the river awhile, Monika’s shoes dirtying on the dusty trail, her cane tapping into the earth. _How long do parks stay open? Are we even allowed here after dark?_ She seemed to recall vague rules about that issue, but they got lost in the static, and she was content to ignore them.

They found a small clearing that looked out onto the river, the moon bouncing off the rippling water as the wind blew by. Crickets chirped around them, an owl hooted in the far distance. Fayce sat on a fallen log. Monika paced around a bit, taking in the surroundings, though they certainly paled in comparison to the night before. Eventually, she rested with her back against the rough log, relaxing her legs on the ground. Fayce lowered herself beside Monika.

“I take it you’re not going home tonight?” Monika asked, gazing out onto the river, following the stream as it moved with the chilly wind.

“I’ll think too much,” Fayce replied, her voice a whisper. “Theresa and I used to do this, whenever school was heavy, or one of us was too stressed….” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she sighed. “I don’t want to think about Theresa right now, or what was, or what could’ve been. I don't want to go home and see her on the walls. And I certainly don’t want to be angry when I have to deal with her tomorrow.”

Monika kind of knew the feeling. Her own home was painted with images of Sayori, of intrusive memories that she’s been flooded with the night prior, the same reason she still hadn’t wanted to go back. Theresa had been there as well, as was Monika’s dead mother. Amongst the living and present, she had her father, but he was scarce company that she’d rather not have interacted with. She could still smell the rotten stink of alcohol sinking into the walls.

“You followed me without asking where we were going,” Fayce said with a soft giggle. “I’m assuming you also don’t want to go home?”

“I’ll think too much,” Monika echoed with a slight smile. The two sat like that for a while, the moon coming to dominate the sky, the sounds of wind and crickets filling the chill air. Monka tightened her jacket. Her phone was vibrating in her bag, but he elected to ignore it. _Only one person who would call right now. I don’t care._

One moment, Monika had closed her eyes, leaning against Fayce, hugging against the warmth, and the next she opened them, the bright morning sun had risen into the sky. The air was colder, thinner, and birds chirped and sang from the forest around her. The clear water in the river was rushing faster now. Soft wind blew by, shaking the distant, overgrown field, the bare branches of the trees. Monika had been hugged around Fayce’s arm, and she withdrew herself, a slight blush creeping up her expression. Fayce was still asleep.

Monika’s phone had six missed calls, a single text from her father asking where she was. The calls had ended at some point during the dark of the morning. A pang of regret struck her. _Maybe it would’ve been a good idea to at least text him._ Yet that small voice was speaking at the back of her mind again. _He didn’t really care anyway. It was just a formality to find out where you were.Otherwise he would’ve tried a little harder._

She switched off her phone and gazed out at the river until the girl next to her stirred and yawned. Fayce’s mismatched eyes slid open. “Ah, shit, it got colder,” she said, shrinking into her coat a little more.

“Summer gave its final farewell yesterday,” Monika commented. “This is December’s approaching welcome.”

Fayce laughed. “That was _way_ too poetic.” The girl staggered to her feet, leaning against the log for support as she stretched and cracked her muscles. “We should get going. Whether we want to or not, we’ve gotta get home.”

“Right,” Monika cheerlessly agreed.

__________________

Monika’s father hadn’t been home when she entered the front door. The sour stench of old alcohol permeated the air, but not strong enough to repulse Monika. She pushed the window in her room open, the hallway window as well, and fetched breakfast from the rather bare kitchen. Her father had at least gone to the grocery recently. In her room, she worked at her math homework, and the worksheet from day one, carelessly cheating with the internet, content to just have the damn things done.

She passed some time watching various movies she’d missed during her time in the hospital, reading assorted books scattered on her bookshelf, or texting lively jokes and banter with Fayce. _At least the house isn’t suffocating._ Her room needed tidying up and organized, so she sorted through her plain wardrobe, lamenting her need to go shopping somewhere, picked up trash off the floor, fixed up the blankets on her cold bed.

When her father came through the door, he marched up the steps and stopped at her open door. “Where were you?” he asked, louder than Monika would’ve liked.

“Out,” she replied, her voice plain. Her father’s eyes rolled.

“Out where? You’ve only been home a few days and you’re already vanishing? I called you, and you should’ve answered,” he said with a hint of venom at the edge of his tongue.

“It took you a long time to notice I was gone,” Monika said, finally turning to face her father. His arms were crossed, his collared suit raggled and stained. “I left the night before last. But you were too drunk to care.”

“Excuse me?” Her dad’s emerald eyes went wide.

“Drunk,” Monika repeated. “You were passed out drunk. I didn’t want to sleep here, so I went out with a friend.”

“I was at work all of yesterday, otherwise I would’ve noticed,” her father mumbled.

Monika scoffed. “You know, you said it’d be different, before we came home. You said you weren’t going to do… _this._ ”

Her father sighed, and his shoulders dropped alongside his expression. Dark bags surrounded his bloodshot eyes, and his movement was sluggish as he sank to her bed. She watched him the entire time. “I know,” he said, low.

“Just another lie, I suppose,” Monika quietly said, the words just spilling out. She hadn’t meant to say them. At that point, all she wanted was for the man to go isolate himself with his drink and leave her be, but some other part of her, the more hopeful part that had driven her to actually interact with people at school, wanted to try and right things. So she found herself moving to call him out. “Like with mother, and with Sayori.”

Her father was silent a moment, the words sinking in. Monika leaned against her desk, tapped her cane on the floor just to fill the air with some noise. “I didn’t lie without reasons,” her father said, slowly.

“Doesn’t matter the reasons. It’s not right,” Monika said.

“You asked about Sayori,” her father began, and she lifted her head to meet his exhausted eyes. “But you don’t need to know what happened.”

“You don’t have the right to decide that,” Monika snapped.

“You don’t need to know what happened,” her father said, raising his voice. “Look at what it did to you the first time. She’s gone, that’s all that matters. Accept it, and move on.”

Monika screwed up her brow. “She was my friend,” she said brusquely. “I may have forgotten what happened, but I deserve to know. You have no right to rob me of that, and neither does my stupid brain.”

“Sayori-”

“Is she dead?” Monika asked plainly. His reply wasn’t immediate.

“Yes, she is,” he said, rubbing his temples, scratching at his arm.

 _Hope._ “For a lawyer, you’re a terrible liar,” Monika said. “Just… get out. Leave me alone.”

He didn’t say anything as he climbed to his feet and trailed out the door. She shut it behind him.

Cursing silently, she closed her window to block out the cold, collapsed into her bed and slid the covers over herself. _He was lying. He always lies. But at least some good news may have come out of that._

_______________

The bus came to a rolling stop in front of the school, and Monika carefully climbed down the metal steps, her cane tapping the sidewalk as her feet hit the concrete. The day seemed menacing. Ominous black clouds gathered above, blotting out the pale morning sunlight, threatening storms, while the air was thin and stung with the frigid winter temperatures. Yet Monika was happy the weekend was over. Fayce had been busy all of Sunday, and Monika had been forced to spend it in doors, crowded with her angry and distant father, clamoring around her head for more info on Sayori. Her father’s words had convinced her of one thing: she probably was still alive.

Monika pushed through the sparse crowd. Most of the student body were indoors, huddled in classrooms, making final preparations for the festival. Decorations were already being strung up, alongside brightly colored posters advertising different activities, the plans of the clubs. Teachers were hesitant to assign homework in wake of the coming break, which may as well have started the next day, when the festival was on. Ms. Bynes droned on with her boring lecture. She at least smiled when Monika dropped the completed, albeit cheated, stack of work on her desk.

Lunch was spent alone. She’d caught Natsuki, but her and Yuri were busy with the same thing everyone was. Most students seemed to use the lunch period for that. Fayce was nowhere to be seen. _Nor Theresa._

Monika’s nerves had been steeled all day. She needed to speak to the girl that was once her friend. Monika’s father was full of vague, half answers mixed in with lies, but Theresa’s knowledge had to come from somewhere, and _maybe she’ll actually tell the truth._ After all, Theresa had no reason to lie. Her father lied to “protect” her. Theresa clearly didn’t want that.

After a few more boring classes, the student body poured back to their festival prep, but Monika met Yuri in the school’s relatively small library. _We’d made plans for tutoring,_ she barely remembered. At least Yuri was there, alongside the bouncing Natsuki.

“Monika!” Yuri warmly smiled as Monika sank into an uncomfortable, creaking wooden chair. The round table had been set up with a textbook, blank pages, and Natsuki’s feet. Monika scowled, dropped the girl’s feet back to the floor with a scold of _“manners.”_

“Shocked you were able to do this,” Monika said.

“We’re almost done with the festival prep,” Yuri said. “Only a few things everyone else can handle.”

“I assume ‘everyone else’ doesn’t include you?” Monika asked, peering over at Natsuki.

“I’ve helped plenty!” Natsuki said, a little too loud, earning a shush from Yuri in spite of no one else being in the library. “Besides, I’m a little behind on math as well…”

“Of course,” Yuri sighed. “I should’ve known you had an ulterior motive. Though why you didn’t just say something…”

Natsuki glared at Yuri, some color creeping up her face. “I mean, I don’t need _that_ much help,” Natsuki said. “Just a few things I’m stuck on.”

Yuri lowly hummed, her narrowed gaze stuck on the smaller girl. “Well, the festival’s tomorrow, so I guess a good time to start is now.”

Monika fished out the notebook she’d been filling up with algebra. The pages were all scrawled with every little thing the teacher had written on the whiteboard or said out loud. Monika’s mind glazed over it all, confused at how things were put together, at how the formulas worked and generated their answers. The numbers all jumbled up, mixed together in her mind.

Yuri was forced to trail back often, restating things, repeating herself, or having to write down a formula enough that Natsuki would get frustrated on the dark haired girl’s behalf. Even after an hour ticked by and they were forced out of the library, Monika may as well not have attended the session. Everything was static in her head. As usual, she still didn’t know how to swim through static.

“I hate math,” Monika resolved outside. Yuri quietly laughed, but Natsuki’s scowl was still present.

“It was just a single session,” Yuri said. “We can try again after the break.”

“Fuck that,” Natsuki said, earning a returned scowl from Yuri. “No _way_ am I going to be there for that one!”

“You want help, you’ll be there,” Yuri said.

“We can find another time for me,” Natsuki pouted.

“Doubtful,” Yuri said.

Monika couldn’t suppress the rising giggle. “Aren’t you two together all day? I’m sure you could find time to tutor her, if I’m getting in the way.”

“We are not together all day!” Natsuki snapped, jolting her head away to hide the furious blush.

“We’re away plenty,” Yuri mumbled. “Natsuki’s just helpful, that’s all. Useful to have around.”

“Oh, you don’t like my friendship?” Natsuki scoffed. “That’s great to hear! I’ll just go be a good friend to someone else.”

“N-no, that’s not what I meant!” Yuri blinked, eyes wide with surprise. “You’re a good friend, and helpful, both. People can be both. I can keep someone around for both. Can’t I? I mean, it’s not like I just value you because you’re helpful, but you’re also fun to be around, and…” Yuri sighed and rubbed at the back of her neck. “I’m sorry, I’m not great with words. I didn’t mean-”

“Jeez,” Natsuki laughed. “I was joking!”

“ _Joking?!”_ Yuri’s face went blank for a moment, then her dark eyes homed in on the smaller girl, hints of unbridled rage in them. Natsuki backed off a tad, still laughing.

That was when Monika spied Theresa emerging from the school’s office doors. Alone. _Perfect._ As Yuri and Natsuki continued their somewhat light hearted banter, Monika said her goodbyes, and stalked over to the girl in question.

Theresa’s usually immaculate appearance was undercut with a tinge of insomnia, ruffles in the fabric of her usually spotless clothes, and frizzy hair. Her dark brown, bloodshot eyes glazed over Monika, and even her attempt at a scowl was weak. The girl crossed her arms. “I don’t know why _you’re_ still here. It’s not like you’ve been helping the festival at all.”

“I have a part to play,” Monika replied.

“A pointless one. A job that was meant to be mine,” Theresa snapped. The venom wasn’t present on her voice, though. _Just what I needed._

“You complain that I’m not contributing to the festival, then you complain when I do,” Monika groaned. The exchange fit her memories fell enough, matching the interactions of the past, where toxic words were exchanged in good faith, though that faith wasn’t present now. Theresa needed a deflection for everything, to keep interest in the conversation, and Monika was happy to provide.

“I’d complain less if you’d actually helped before the whole thing,” Theresa said, shoving past Monika. “Instead you vanish with Fayce and draw back preparations even more.”

“Regardless, I’d say that I fit my part tomorrow. If anyone were to say anything on depression, I think you’d be the _least_ qualified,” Monika snapped. Theresa whirled back around.

“You don’t fucking know me,” Theresa said, her voice dripping with poison, color starting to fill her blank face.

“Doubtful,” Monika replied. “We did spend a lot of time together, before high school.”

“You said you didn’t-” Theresa blinked, her mouth agape. “You were only after one thing from me. You weren’t my friend, and you didn’t know me then, and you certainly don’t know me now.”

“One thing? Friendship? Isn’t that a good thing to want from someone?”

“Your type always wants more than just that,” Theresa snarled “Now fuck off.” She tried to storm off again, but Monika blocked her with a steady hand and carefree posture. It felt _good_ to be standing up to her, to pinch at her nerves, but _that’s not the reason I’m here._

“I wanted something more from Sayori, not you,” Monika corrected. “I was content with being friends when it came to you. Not that it’s an insult, of course, I’m certain you’d make a lovely girlfriend to someone out there.”

Theresa recoiled, a slight drop in her posture barely noticable. “What type of person thinks that about- _no._ I’m not getting roped into this. Just like I didn’t let you rope me into the bullshit with Sayori years ago.”

“I’m not roping you into anything!” Monika sighed, frustrated. “Are you really so insecure that even my presence intimidates you? Or do you just think everything revolves around you?”

“That’s not- I didn’t- _shit,_ what do you want?” Theresa growled through grit teeth.

“We were friends once,” Monika said, taking a softer tone. “You, Sayori, and I. Whatever happened to Sayori, it must’ve affected you too.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s dead. Nothing any of us can do to change it,” Theresa mumbled. For just a small fraction of a second, her scowl dropped, replaced by something thoughtful, _something with sorrow._ “I’ve moved on. So should you.”

“I can’t move on, not until I know what happened to her,” Monika said. “How’d she die?”

“She-” Theresa sighed, shuffled her feet on the ground. “You were there, right? That’s what you said. She was gone, you said. That she hanged herself.”

“ _Gone?_ Not dead?”

“ _She hanged herself._ What do you think that means?”

“I hanged myself too,” Monika noted, idly scratching at the fading pink flesh that wrapped around her neck. “Do I look dead?”

Theresa blinked. Whatever scowl she had before had been replaced. The sincerity in her eyes, the concern painted on her gaze, it all seemed alien on Theresa, like a new emotion tried on a human for the first time. Yet it was there. It lined up with some images of Theresa in the past, when they’d been closer. When talks like these wouldn’t have been difficult.

“Did you attend a funeral? Hear of one? Talk to her parents?” Monika interrogated.

After a moment, Theresa answered, “No.”

“So she could still be alive,” Monika said.

“Maybe,” Theresa confirmed. “But does it matter? She’s gone either way. We’re all different people now. No doubt she’s moved on, just as I have, just as you should.”

“That’s why I’m trying to find her,” Monika said. “I need closure. I need to know what happened to her, what happened between her and I.”

Theresa shook her head. “It’ll only hurt one or both of you.”

“I’m already hurt,” Monika mumbled. “Do you know where they moved? Her parents?”

“No,” Theresa said. “They vanished. It wasn’t like we had been friends any longer, so I doubted they wanted to keep me updated.”

 _Great. Another dead end._ Monika crossed her arms. “Did you remember her last name, maybe? Something I can maybe punch into a search engine?”

Theresa looked at the ground for a moment, then clicked her tongue. “Amano, I think. Yes, that’s it.”

 _Amano. Sayori Amano._ That almost sounded right. “‘kay. Thanks for your time, I guess.”

Theresa gave a stern nod, then started off toward the parking lot again, before spinning on her heel back to Monika. “You’d best have a good fucking speech tomorrow. I won’t have a moron replacing me,” she shouted.

Monika found herself smiling at that, because it felt like something Theresa would’ve said in the past, when they’d been closer. _Maybe we can be like that again, someday._


	7. Seven

Monika was in the school again. Not the real one, but the infinite, sprawling school with endless, undecorated hallways surrounded by a void of swirling colors. Her bare feet tapped on the tiled floor as she moved through the halls. Unlike before, it was bitterly cold, and the thin clothes she was wearing did nothing to keep her from shivering and her teeth from chattering. Every now and again, something would clammer around in the walls, like a raccoon running through vents. Once, when she'd opened a door into an empty classroom, she swore she saw a shadow jump out of an open window, leaving with a muffled growl.

_ I'm dreaming again _ . In spite of it, everything felt so real. The floors and walls were completely solid, the air was frigid and thin but real, and the sounds weren't overlaid with the echoing from before. She was dreaming, but it was unlike the others. She tried to ignore it as she hunted through the halls, searching for that familiar classroom.

Tiny footsteps pattered behind her. When she turned on her heel, there was nothing there but a few ruffled blank posters knocked off a wall. "Hello?" she hesitantly asked, but there was no response. She turned back around and sped up her pace.

One of the doors ahead had been swung widely open, and a small, blackened shape had peeked out. When it spied Monika, it ducked back in, slammed the door shut. Monika found it locked. Something was scurrying around on the other side. She could hear an awful clicking as the walls pounded and shook. She turned and sprinted away, passing through more endless hallways, panic rising in her chest.  _ I'm not alone. _ She remembered the first dream, Fayce pounding at the door and screaming that something was out there in the halls with her. But she was safe, right? It was a dream. She couldn't be harmed.

That thought didn't stop the panic, though.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she found the familiar steel staircase tucked away at the edge of a long hall. Slowly, she climbed the steps, wary of anything potentially at the top. After emerging from the top door, she found the only classroom she recognized. Yet the door was locked.

The clicking noise was in the stairwell now. She slammed that door shut, fruitlessly searched for the lock, and pounded at the classroom door, screaming for it to open. Behind her, the door was shifting, moving, being slowly pushed open, and Monika sprinted in the other direction, down the hall to her right. Her form was wobbly, her legs unused to being used normally, but she held out, running like her life depended on it. Even if this is all a dream.

The clicking was still behind her when she reached the end of the hall. Only a single window flanked by two other classrooms was there. She ran into one of the rooms, quickly swung the door shut, and locked it, then moved a few desks in front of it for good measure. A few seconds passed in silence. When she went to listen to the other side of the door, something pounded against it, scratched at the wood, cracked the frame. The clicking was louder now.

Monika turned away, scanning the room for something that could help. That was when she found Sayori. The girl's hair was constantly changing, even in view, from all different hues of color, hurting Monika's stained eyes. The blue in her irises had been drowned out by a milky white. Her skin was stained with revolting shades of blue and black and purple, all mixing together, surrounding crimson gashes gushing with fresh blood. Her chapped, broken lips curled into something resembling a smile. Monika backed against the wall.

Sayori didn't move. Those blind eyes were still fixated on Monika, while the pounding at the door continued, and the loud clicking hounded at Monika's brain. The void of color outside was fading, the swirls turning pitch black, like an overcast night sky. She tried to smash the window, but the glass wouldn't crack or break, and her hands grew weak and weighed like stones. Her legs collapsed from under her as her head throbbed with a horrible migraine. Sayori was standing over her now, though Monika hadn't seen her move.

"You already know where to find me," the thing wearing Sayori's skin said in a deep, hammering voice unfitting a girl. "But you don't really care, do you? Not about me, not truly, only for yourself."

Monika said nothing. She tried to cover her ears, to block out the noise, but Sayori's voice was clear as day. "When you find me, what will you say? Will you apologize? Do you think you can be forgiven for killing me?" Sayori cackled with laughter. The entire school shook, the walls cracked and broke apart.

"I'm sorry," Monika quickly said, though she didn't really know why.  _ Dreams are dreams. Nightmares are the same way. Nothing here makes sense. _ But the sense of guilt, or regret, prevailed over even her fear and panic. "I'm so sorry."

"There's no sorry for this!" Sayori screamed. The windows shattered, and the glass rained down onto Monika, slicing into the flesh of her arms and scalp. On the other side of the room, the wooden door finally gave way. A pitch black, twisted, eldritch shape hurled through the doorframe, leaping toward Monika, and she barely had time to scream before her eyes shot open.

The dimmed screen of her laptop was right in front of her as she woke, dozens of tabs opened on her browser, all searching for the same name. Outside, a thick white cover of heavy snow blocked out the view of even Natsuki's house across the street. The wind harshly scraped against the walls of the house. Her room was warm, though, warm and safe, with the faint smell of lavender detergent clinging to the air.  _ Must've fallen asleep. _ The thought did nothing to assuage the panic bubbling in her chest.  _ There's something I'm forgetting to do... _ Wet tears were drying down her cheeks, and her eyes were blurry and sore. She wiped away the moisture.  _ Stupid nightmare. _

The buzz of her laptop's idle fan drew her attention. She scrolled through the tabs, checking the dozens of new sites.  _ Nothing here, really _ . She'd been hunting all day, since she'd burst through the door after getting home from school, just as she had yesterday. _ Sayori Amano. _ Theresa had been right about the name, if the fresh  memories triggered by it were any indication, yet she couldn't find any Sayori that matched the right one. Most were adults, with court documents, or ownership of houses, even one that was a prolific judge somewhere. None that could've been the Sayori that was once her closest friend. She closed the tabs out, reopened a new Google search, thumbing through pages.  _ What was that Sayori said, in the nightmare? 'You already know where to find me.'  _ Monika shook her head at nothing in particular. Nothing jumped out at her when she retreated into her mind and examined the static. She had no passing clue where the girl could've gone.

But now there was something.

Weeks before their separation, before whatever happened, Monika had been at Sayori's house, the two isolated in the latter's room. Monika had been listening to Sayori's parents drone on about a house, about a deceased relative who had left it for them, and how they were intending on moving there. Sayori had insisted that she'd never leave Monika once she'd mentioned it, so Monika dismissed had dismissed the entire thing. 

She searched through the internet again, tracing deaths belonging to the Amano family, and found one from just a few months prior. She traced the name, found an address, and managed to find a deed of sale, dated a few weeks after the death.  _ Score.  _

The only dominant issue was that the house was an hour’s drive away, across the entire city. Monika hadn’t learned to drive, not even before her  _ incident,  _ and had no immediate way of getting there. Yet, if Sayori was there, she needed find something, some method. Her dad might have helped, but in addition to working all day, he didn’t seem to care about her search, and had in fact tried to dissuade her from it.  _ How bad would it be if I asked, say, Fayce to help with this? _

Outside, the winter storm was only coming down harder, with sleet mixing in the harsh snow and howling winds. The only car to drive by had gone slow, with flashing headlights, pulled close to the curb.  _ Who’d be going anywhere right now?  _

_ Oh, right. _

Almost on queue, the phone on her nightstand began to vibrate, Fayce’s name popping up on the caller ID. She reached over, unlocked the phone. “Hello?” she sheepishly asked.

“ _ Please  _ tell me you have a speech ready,” Fayce quickly breathed, frustration at the edge of her voice.  _ Oh no. _

“I, um, have something,” Monika lied. She’d been so wrapped up in her search that she’d neglected to put anything to paper. Details had been mulled over in her mind, and she’d tried to think of a starting point, yet nothing had come out. 

“Unless that something is a complete speech, we’re doomed in that department,” Fayce said with a bitter laugh. 

“The festival is still happening?” Monika asked, exasperated. 

“So the administration said,” Fayce replied. “Honestly? I doubt anyone will show up, beyond club presidents and you.”

“Me?”

“I’m on my way to pick you up, of course,” Fayce said. 

“In the storm? Is that safe?”

“I’ve driven through worse,” Fayce said, almost offended. “You’d best be ready when I get there. And to be honest, if you don’t have a speech, I think that’s fine. I have a draft somewhere of my own, and whatever sparse crowd will be there probably won’t care all that much.”

“I’ll be ready,” Monika said. A few minute after hanging up, she was digging through her closet and drawers, fishing out something fitting to wear. It wasn’t exactly a formal event, but assuming she was going to be on a stage, or at least in front of many of the students, she wanted to look somewhat presentable. Unfortunately, her own clothes were mostly casual shirts, dreary pairs of jeans, plain jackets. There wasn’t any real flare to any of it. No spark. She’d put up with it for the past few days, but the memories of wearing a bright wardrobe of stylish designs and attractive, eye catching qualities still peered through the static. 

She needed something new. 

The door to the abandoned master bedroom was still closed, still unopened since she’d ventured in. Monika stepped into the narrow walk-in closet, dozens of tops and dresses hanging from the metal railings, each drawing her attention further down the line as she peered through. Many were a size too big, but the fews she found that fit well looked far more grand than her own wardrobe. She fished through drawers, tossing aside rejected clothes and picking through the accepted, combining them with tops, trying different things on until she found something she was content with; a smooth flowery dress over matching, tight fitting leggings, a pair of rugged boots good for keeping the snow from freezing her feet, and a heavy, fur lined coat with the expensive price tag still attached. Her neck had been covered with a bright, thin summer scarf, and she ensured the sleeves of the dress completely covered her blighted wrists. 

Somewhere, deep in one of the drawers, buried beneath an ocean of other assorted accessories, was a thin, white ribbon, so familiar in Monika’s grasp. 

She spent some time with her hair, tying it up with the ribbon, getting the look just right. Her facial features still didn’t resemble the dream’s, but she’d grown used to it, and decided against slathering it with makeup until it bore a small level of resemblance, like she usually did. Instead, she decided to bring out her normal features, to not hide away her real face. 

For the first time since waking up, she felt confidant in her appearance. She made last minute adjustments, then ran outside with her coat tightened around her once Fayce sent a text. She hurried through the snow, through the heavy layer of white flakes that blocked view of anything beyond a few feet in front of her, until she was once again settled in the passenger seat. 

Fayce beamed a smile. “You look nice.”

“As do you,” Monika replied, returning the bright expression.  _ As always.  _ Though Fayce’s outfit was completely casual, it fit her perfectly; a thin, black cardigan over a colorful shirt, slim jeans, and high rising boots. Her black hair had been tied into two loose ponytails, only done at the halfway point on each side. She’d accented her eyes with liner colored after each iris, one golden and one a deep blue. 

Fayce took her time driving through the snow, the windshield wipers furiously trying to keep the piling blob from blinding the driver. The heater blew at full blast, muffling the radio and the sound of Monika’s fingers rapping on the armrest. “So, considering the storm, how many people do you really think will be there?”

“Yuri said she was already there, last I checked. Theresa’s there too, I think. A few of the other club presidents, some of the students in walking distance to the school. So, maybe a few dozen? I don’t honestly know,” Fayce replied. 

_ If Yuri’s there, Natsuki probably is, too.  _ “Hopefully there are enough to consider it a proper festival,” Monika said. 

“Hopefully,” Fayce hummed. “Who knows, maybe you won’t have to give any speech after all.”

“I fully intend on it,” Monika said. 

“Did you write one? Or do you need a draft? Because on the phone-”

“I don’t need to write one,” Monika interrupted. “I know what I’m going to say.”  _ Or, at least, I hope I do.  _

“Whatever you say. Wish you’d written it out, though,” Fayce said. “I could’ve gone over it, helped improve it. I’m good with that sort of thing, y’know~”

“I couldn’t find the time.”

“It’s not like we had a lot of schoolwork, though. And I know I kind of stole part of your weekend, but still…”

Monika shook her head. “It’s fine, honestly. It was a nice weekend. And I’ve been spending most of today and yesterday searching for Sayori.”

Fayce’s brow rose. “Sayori?”

“Theresa gave me a last name, and I remembered something about a house Sayori’s parents got when a relative died, and-! I’ve found an address!”

“Really?” Fayce narrowed her eyes. “Where is it?”

“Across the city, a little over an hour away,” Monika replied. 

“So, how do you intend to get there?”

“Not sure.” Monika’s gaze fell out the window, into the white noise that engulfed the world. “But I have a feeling that I’ll find her there, so I need to find a way.”

Fayce sighed, and looked thoughtfully ahead, growing silent for a few ticks. When they stopped at a light, she started to say something, but didn’t continue. Not until the second stoplight. “Do you think it’s a wise idea to do this?” she said, mincing her words. “Find Sayori, I mean.”

“I  _ have  _ to,” Monika insisted with a confident voice. “I need to know what happened. To us, why we split apart, if it had anything to do with-”

“That’s the problem,” Fayce spoke over her, cutting in. “I mean, if it had something to do with why you, um,” she paused. “What if it drums up something better forgotten? What if you can’t remember for a specific reason?”

“You sound a bit like my dad,” Monika quietly said. 

“Maybe he’s right.” 

“He’s wrong,” Monika said, shifting in her seat. Sayori had haunted her thoughts, a ghost at the edge of her mind since the day she had woken up in that hospital bed. She’d been in her dreams, she’d been a friend even before that. Monika needed answers.  _ And Sayori’s alive. _

“I’m just-” Fayce veered off. “What if you find her, and she’s a different person? Or she’s not happy to see you? What if something goes wrong, and it just reverses all the progress you’ve been making? I just think it’s a good idea to try and move on.”

“ _ This is moving on,” _ Monika said, a little louder than she intended. “Closure is part of moving on!”

Fayce flinched. “Maybe. Or maybe this is just aggravating some old memories. You forgot, right? You can’t remember why Sayori ditched you, why you both ended up in similar situations. Doesn’t the brain sometimes block out certain things to deal with trauma?”

“I don’t care,” Monika insisted. 

“Fine,” Fayce breathed. “Fine. Forget I said anything.” 

_ Gladly.  _ Monika wondered if anyone would support this. Fayce had been another potential method of getting to Sayori, but that seemed to be crossed off the list now. They sat in silence, the heater blocking out the radio, until the silhouette of the school popped out of the snow, and Fayce found a parking spot in the sparsely populated lot. 

Once they’d traversed the heavy piles of fallen snow and were safely inside the warm embrace of the school’s halls, Monika saw exactly what Fayce had meant. Most anyone who came had gathered in the cafeteria, murmuring amongst themselves in small groups, while the classrooms either remained empty or were bare of any but a few members of various clubs. Principal Goff stood at the end of the wide cafeteria, near the worn doors to the gym, his back turned as he talked to a few teachers. “Not much of a festival, is it?” Monika commented.

“Stupid storm,” Fayce mumbled. “Um, Yuri’s club is set up in 78, if you want to find her. I’ve got some things to check up on.” With that, Fayce was off, and Monika was left to traverse the empty halls in search of room 78. She found it in one of the towers, a brightly colored banner proudly advertising a poetry night, encouraging others to participate. 

That didn’t seem to be working out, however.

The classroom was mostly empty, save a couple groups of people huddled together, Yuri’s tall figure among them. Natsuki was standing off to the side, wearing a particularly bored expression. Monika sat on a desk nearby. “Things aren’t going well, are they?”

Natsuki sighed. “Stupid storm,” she mumbled. “Yuri’s trying to find other people to help, but I don’t think anyone else is going to show. I mean, we’re rather snowed in.”

“I can see that,” Monika laughed. A stream of white static was still flooding the world outside, and the strong winds howled through the window’s edges. A tree branch had been snapped clean off and sat on the ground, almost buried entirely. A few more cars were pulling into the lot. 

“It kind of sucks,” Natsuki murmured. “Yuri was so excited too…”

The girl in question was now walking toward them, forcing a smile. Tense shoulders dropped as she sat down. “Hey Monika,” she said with a warry voice. 

“Sorry about the festival,” Monika said with a voice of sympathy. 

Yuri waved it off. “I-it’s fine, really. I wasn’t actually looking forward to hosting so many people, anyways. And standing in front of all of them…” Yet there was a longing in her dark eyes. She scanned the room, looking over the other members of her club, what few were still there. “Honestly. I’m mostly just sad that all the preparation is kind of being wasted.”

Natsuki rapped her fingers on the wood of a desk. “There’s not much excuse for so few people to show up,” she snapped.

“Except, you know, the snowstorm,” Monika said, shrinking away when Natsuki glared at her. “People across town aren’t exactly going to be able to get here easily,” she decided to add.

“I’m sure you’re happy now, Nat.” Yuri sighed. “Y-you were right. Maybe if we’d done something else, something more e-exciting, people would’ve been more inclined to come.”

Natsuki’s face fell, and her eyes softened. “No, that’s not-”

“It’s fine, really,” Yuri repeated. “I’ve got some things to do real quick. Be back in a bit.” 

As Yuri walked away, Natsuki turned toward the window, any view blocked by static. She was digging her nails into the wood of the desk. “Dammit,” she whispered. “This isn’t how this was supposed to go.”

“Obviously,” Monika said.

“No! I meant-” Natsuki sighed, her digging finger relented. “Yuri is always so isolated. When she was considering doing the club, I encouraged her because it could’ve gotten her out of her shell. And it did! She used to be a bumbling mess when she talked to people, and now she’s somewhat passable in real conversations. This entire thing was kind of her idea, and I was wondering how she’d handle it…”

“Didn’t you oppose this?” Monika asked, crossing her arms.

“Yes! But no! I mean-” Natsuki grit her teeth. “Sometimes I say shit I don’t mean. I would have liked to do something else, yeah, but this was Yuri’s idea! She planned it, she was going to participate, and I was looking forward to seeing her up on the podium! Last year, she’d never stand in front a lot of people, yet she was more than willing to do it today! I honestly think she was even looking forward to it…”

Monika hummed. An idea popped into her head, though she needed Yuri to go over it, and maybe get Fayce to agree to it.  _ Maybe it could work.  _ It wasn’t like Monika had come up with a real speech, or a plan beyond standing in front of everyone and winging it. If it would be good for Yuri, though, Monika would gladly surrender the speaking position. 

By the time Yuri reentered the classroom, most of the others had left, content that no one else was showing. Most of the crowd seemed to be gathered in the cafeteria, if the growing noise was any indication, but Natsuki and Monika stayed in the room, gazing out the window, complaining about the snow and winter. Yuri took her seat next to Monika, a tired expression painted on her features. 

“So, I guess that’s it,” Yuri solemnly said. “I’ve kind of failed.”

“Everyone else failed,” Natsuki said. 

“If we’re blaming anything, how about the weather?” Monika added with a slight smile. Almost on cue, the wind howled against the window. 

“So much wasted prep…” Yuri looked around. “I-I guess it was fun to set up. But I was hoping…”

“Yeah,” Natsuki said.

“Uh, are they still doing the whole charity-speech-thing?” Monika asked. Both of them looked at her, then each other. 

“I think so,” Yuri replied with a slow nod. “Why?”

“I’m supposed to give the speech, but I haven’t exactly prepared anything,” Monika said. She smiled warmly at Yuri. “Maybe you could give it instead?”

Yuri’s eyes went wide.  _ Ok, maybe not a great idea… _

But Natsuki’s face wore a bright expression. “I think that’s a great idea!”

“You… do?” Yuri’s eyes were still widened in surprise. 

“You’re great with words,” Natsuki said. “If anyone could make a good speech, it’s you!”

“I don’t know…” Yuri looked over at the wall, mulling over it in her head. After a moment of silence, she gave a small nod. “M-maybe. You really think I could do this, Natsuki?”

“It’s not like there are many people out there to listen, so even if you do screw up, it’s nothing serious. But I think you could manage it!” Natsuki cheerfully replied. “Besides, you’re good at writing out flowery words or whatever. You’ll probably make a great speech.”

Yuri smiled just a tiny bit, her eyes and posture relaxed. “Ok,” she said. “I-I’ll do it!”

“You’re sure?” Monika asked. “Because if Natsuki’s pressuring you too much-”

“No-! It’s fine,” Yuri interrupted, he soft voice taking an edged tone. “I can do it.”

“Ok,” Monika said with a firm nod. “Assuming it’s still happening, anyway. We should probably ask Fayce about this.”

They found the girl in question surrounded by a small crowd of others, isolated in their own pocket of the increasingly crowded cafeteria. The other students were talking of random topics, of tests after the break, of plans for Thanksgiving, but no one seemed to mention the festival or the so-far failure of it. Navigating through the isles, Monika drew Fayce’s attention, and the girl led them to an empty table in a silent corner. 

“So, things aren’t going well, so far,” Fayce said once seated. 

“No shit,” Natsuki said. 

“Any plans on changing course?” Monika asked. 

“It’s not like anyone else really cares,” Fayce shrugged. “So, no, not really.” 

“Well, are we still doing the speech thing?” 

“I guess. I don’t think the administration wants to break tradition quite yet,” Fayce repled. 

“Well, I, um, h-have an idea on that,” Yuri said, her voice struggling to fight the noise of the crowd.

“Yeah?” Fayce tilted her head.

“I, um, w-want to-”

“She wants to do the speech instead, since Monika failed to prepare,” Natsuki cheerfully interrupted. 

Fayce blinked. “What?”

“We decided on letting Yuri say something instead,” Monika confirmed.  _ Not like I was going to succeed in that department.  _

“Are you sure?” Fayce asked, looking over at Yuri. 

“Yes,” the taller girl said with a confident nod of her head. 

“Ok,” Fayce slowly said. “Uh, I’ll go check with the principal, see if we can get it started. Do you know what you’re going to say?”

“I have s-some idea,” Yuri confirmed. 

Fayce slipped out of the bench and sauntered over to the group of teachers standing on the other side of the cafeteria. Yuri was fidgeting in her seat. “You’ll be fine,” Natsuki encouraged. “Seriously. This’ll be great.”

“If you say so.” Yuri twirled a strand of hair around her finger. 

Fayce returned a few moments later, confirming the unexpected change was fine, and signalled for Yuri to head up. Principal Goff spent a few minutes gathering everyone’s attention with his booming voice, thanking them for coming, lamenting the weather, apologizing for the unexciting day, before finally getting to the donation. His announcement that they were donating to a center for therapy and awareness of depression was met with bright applause. When he announced that Yuri would be giving the speech, Monika saw confused glances, muffled murmuring amongst the tables, a few shrugs. Natsuki’s eyes were glued to the edge of the room as Yuri stepped up and took her place. Monika turned around, craning her head for a better view.

Yuri’s posture was undeniably nervous. She shuffled her feet about on the ground, hunched over slightly, as though shrinking away from the room’s collective gaze. She was silent for a few awkward seconds, before slowly beginning, her words careful and minced as she thanked everyone for coming, thanked them for contributing. She managed to crack a small joke about the weather that earned a few chuckles, which brightened her expression. When she moved onto the subject of depression and began urging people to seek help if needed, she earned a few hollars, some silent cheers and nods. 

As she went on, her stuttering decreased, and the words became more connected. Her voice’s tone grew louder. She straightened her back, confidently continuing, her lips curling into a smile.  _ Far better than I would’ve handled this.  _ Natsuki was idly tapping a foot on the tile floor as she watched. 

The words that drew Monika’s attention was the subtle diss toward Theresa, toward a few other know names. The entire room fell quiet at the words sank. Yuri continued like she hadn’t said anything about it. Theresa was sitting a row over, glaring, frustratedly kicking a foot at the table. 

Once Yuri was finished, she thanked everyone again. Natsuki bounced out of her seat, the first to cheer, and the loudest voice in Monika’s ears. Yuri strode back to her seat amidst the applause, and Goff retook his position, continuing to talk of upcoming school events and wishing everyone a good break before stepping away. 

“That was awesome!” Natsuki proudly said as Yuri slipped back into the bench. 

“It was n-nothing,” Yuri inisted. 

“It was  _ something, _ ” Fayce agreed. “I mean, better than what I would’ve said, I think.”

“See? It was great! Right, Monika?”

Monika nodded. “Definitely.” Monika could just imagine herself standing up there, no words to say, earning confused glares as she tumbled over her words, stuttered as she desperately thought of any way to salvage the mistake. Yuri, however, had grown confident throughout.  _ A sight to see. The introvert giving a great speech.  _

The four of them continued to talk amongst themselves. Monika spotted the glares Theresa sent over, though, and the scowl aimed at Yuri. Her stomach sank. Theresa was far too prideful to take a personal slight so easily, and too popular to let her reputation go tarnished. Her haughty attitude bled into her angry walk as she climbed out of the bench and stormed over to them. Monika stood up, meeting the girl before she could slink into the table. 

“Need something?” Monika asked with a smile. 

“Just wanted to congratulate our speaker,” Theresa replied, forcing her own smile. 

“Of course,” Monika said, but she didn’t step aside. “But maybe you should clean up that scowl of yours, first.”

Theresa furrowed a brow. “Excuse me? I literally just wanted to-”

“I think I know what you’re doing,” Monika interrupted, holding up a hand. 

“What do you-”

“Look, no one wants to fight tonight,” Monika continued. “Seriously. Just go away, leave this alone.”

Theresa glowered for a moment. “I don’t need  _ your  _ permission to talk with someone. It’s not a-”

“Just  _ leave, _ ” Monika insisted. They stood off for a brief minute, two glares that could slice through steel. Monika didn’t move. Yuri had spent a lot of energy getting in front of everyone, and Monika wasn’t going to let a stupid slight ruin the night. 

Fayce came up behind them, but shrunk away from the glares. “Is everything alright?” she asked.

“No,” Theresa replied. 

“Yes,” Monika replied at the same time.

“I just want to congratulate Yuri on her speech. It was really well done,” Theresa said, losing the scowl in favor of a bright smile aimed at Fayce.

“You know what she means to do,” Monika said, not peeling her eyes from Theresa. 

Fayce blinked, then grabbed Theresa’s wrist. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere else. I’ve got something to-”

“What the hell?” Theresa pulled herself free. “Seriously, all I want to do is talk to someone. Why in the world do you just assume malice?”

“Because I know you,” Monika replied.

“No, you don’t-”

“It seems you’re the one who forgot about  _ us _ this time,” Monika said. “I  _ know  _ you. I heard Yuri’s speech, and I know exactly what words you’ve gotten hung up on.”

“Oh fuck off,” Theresa said, raising her voice. “You are seriously an asshole. I can’t exist without you assuming I’ve done something wrong! And if I haven’t, you just assume I will!”

“Theresa, let’s-”

“You come back to school, and suddenly you think you can just be an ass to your betters! I liked you better when you knew your place,” Theresa lashed. “Yeah, maybe I was a little upset by something Yuri said. But I wouldn’t say it here, now. I was going to  _ thank her, _ for the other stuff she said. You’ve got no right to stop me.”

“I doubt it,” Monika said. “I seem to remember you always expressing your thoughts around Sayori and I, no matter the situation.”

“Theresa, please, we can-”

“Oh  _ fuck  _ this,” Theresa said with a wave of her hands. “Have it your way. I’ll be off, if you really want.” Theresa spun on her heel and stormed off. Monika crossed her arms, holding her tongue, resisting the urge to yell all sorts of nasty things after her. Fayce was dumbstruck. Her mismatched eyes were intently focused on the floor. 

“I should go catch up, talk to her,” Fayce said.

“Don’t bother, she’s just being an ass right now,” Monika urged. “Let’s get back to enjoying the night.”

“No,” Fayce shook her head. “I can’t just let her leave like that. Calm her down, or something.”

“You’re going to let her ruin this?” Monika nodded toward the table. Yuri and Natsuki were staring back, confusion in their gazes. 

“I don’t want her mad at me, or at you,” Fayce replied with a sigh.

“Too late,” Monika said. 

Fayce looked back at the table, then toward the door Theresa had barged through. She repeated that cycle a few more times. Then she shook her head. “Sorry. I’ve really gotta handle this. I don’t want her being upset at me. Not now.”

“Really?” Monika blinked. “She was making a fool of herself. Whatever she feels is her fault, not ours.”

“Yuri didn’t have to do that, though,” Fayce said, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“And Theresa doesn’t need to just go around harassing people!” Monika snapped. 

“She’s toning it down!”

“Clearly not enough.”

“But-” Fayce’s expression fell. “There were other ways to handle this. To call her out. Yuri didn’t need to…”

“So you’re blaming Yuri for Theresa being that way?” Monika clicked her tongue. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s just…” Fayce went silent. 

“Forget about her,” Monika insisted. “Seriously. Theresa can sulk in private. But don’t let it ruin the night.”

Fayce took a minute to respond. “Alright.” 

 


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THE TAGS. Specifically, the trigger warnings. 
> 
> Thanks <3

Thanksgiving break was the most unexciting thing to happen thus far. Monika spent most of it indoors, watching snow flurries fill the ground with more white piles, safely in the warmth of her bedroom. Her father worked most of the week, and she spent Thanksgiving curled up in bed, giggling at frustrated texts from a Fayce forced to deal with her extended foster family. The only turkey she had that day was store-bought and on a sandwich. 

The next few days had been spent mulling over a single detail constantly stuck at the edge of her mind.  _ Sayori.  _ Monika had checked into the address as best she could, but without physically visiting, she had no way of confirming whether or not the girl and her family were there. She had no money for a bus or taxi. Her father was working all day and drinking all night, leaving him out of the equation. She hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask Fayce yet. Given Fayce’s opposition to the idea, Monika was about ready to count her off as well. 

Her nights were still plagued by nightmares. She’d fall asleep, wake up in that classroom she’d started to view as hell. The eldritch  _ thing  _ was always looming close by, stalking her through the halls, and she’d be forced to try and hide. An endless cycle. Sometimes Sayori appeared, taunting her, insisting everything was Monika’s fault. Monika couldn’t understand  _ why.  _ She had no memories of Sayori beyond a certain point, certainly no memories of what caused their separation, but her mind insisted it was all her fault, like she screwed something up. 

When Sunday crept along, she  _ needed  _ out of the house. Most of the books on her shelf had already been picked through, and those she hadn’t read were cleared through the break. She couldn’t find the enthusiasm for poetry. She’d sorted through her mother’s wardrobe, stole half it and replaced her own drab closet with the brighter colors and livelier designs. Now she was bored. Once her father staggered in and collapsed in his bed, she texted Fayce, practically begging for a distraction. 

Thankfully, the girl provided. 

They’d driven into the city again, visited the stores and shopped around. They’d eaten at a particularly fancy restaurant and poked fun at the finely dressed, obviously rich patrons, giggling amongst themselves like the schoolgirls they were. After, Fayce had brought her to another park downtown, flanked on all sides by the looming steel towers and the relaxing noise of the busy crowd and packed street. 

Fayce was leading them through a sparse wood, the black branches all stripped of leaves. Snow crunched under Monika’s boots. Fayce’s pace had been slow, allowing Monika’s stunted legs to keep up easy enough. Above them, the evening sun was sinking below the distant horizon, casting shades of deep red through the packed clouds. 

Fayce collapsed on a log, her gaze focused up at that sky. Monika sat at the edge, swaying her feet back and forth. Soft wind breezed through the trees, shaking the bare branches, ruffling Monika’s hair. It certainly wasn’t a poor start for December.  _ Certainly much better than a snowstorm.  _

Monika had been thinking all day.  _ Sayori.  _ She could easily ask Fayce to take her across the city, to the address Monika had memorized. After all, if Fayce said no, what other means did she have? Monika couldn’t drive. She had no money. She had three friends, only one with a car. Fayce had become her best hope for this. 

Fayce hummed. “Whatcha thinking about?” 

“Things,” Monika replied. 

“What kind of things?”

“Like my past,” Monika started. “Sayori, mostly. The address I found. I really think she could be there.”

Fayce pulled herself up, set herself next to Monika. “Yeah?”

“I’ve looked into it a little more, and someone with her last name is still living there. If Sayori isn't there, then someone can tell me where I could find her.” Monika idly kicked at the snow, sending a puff up into the air. “I really  _ need  _ to do this.”

“You don’t need to,” Fayce said. 

Monika sighed. “I’ve been getting nightmares. Most nights, these days. About Sayori. I mean,” she softly scratched at her arm, careful not to dig too hard, “she’s there most of the time. She always says that everything’s my fault, and I don’t know what she means.”

“They’re dreams,” Fayce said. “They don’t mean anything.”

“They mean  _ something, _ ” Monika insisted.  _ They have to.  _ Her mind’s subconscious method of trying to drum up old memories. Or maybe just old trauma rearing its head to taunt her. But she knew they had meaning. 

Fayce scratched at her chin. “Even if they did,  _ nightmares  _ doesn’t sound good. Only a bad sign. A bad omen, even. You really shouldn’t-”

Monika held up a hand for silence. “You can’t talk me out of this. No one can,” she said. 

“I can’t try?” Fayce stood up, starting pacing in the snow. “I mean, it’s nice to see you being something other than a hollow shell at school. You’re getting so much better. I don’t want to see it all reversed or something.”

“It won’t be,” Monika said, trying to keep her voice confident and strong. “But I need closure. To move on.”

“What if you get there and Sayori isn’t the same person you remember? What if she hates you, or something?”

“Then I’ll deal with it,” Monika replied. “I’m going to find her, no matter what anyone says.”

“And how do you plan to get to her?” Fayce crossed her arms. 

Monika gave a pleading look, finding the question easy enough, but before she could even say anything, Fayce had caught on. The other girl laughed bitterly. 

“No,” she said. “No! I literally just called this a bad idea, and you want me to  _ contribute _ to it?”

“Please,” Monika said, coating the word with as much honey as she could. 

“I will  _ not-” _

“Whatever happens,” Monika interrupted, “I won’t turn back into the person I was before. I’m not that friendless, depressed girl anymore. I have Yuri, and Natsuki.” She paused for a moment. “I have  _ you.” _

Fayce blinked. “And you  _ had  _ Sayori. And Theresa. That didn’t stop much.” Monika’s pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes. “What I mean is, things can change. It might just take a single bad event, or just a few words, and suddenly you’re gone.” Fayce took a deep breath. “I like  _ this.  _ Your company, spending the day with you. I like how I can trust you in ways I could never trust Theresa. I like  _ you.  _ And I don’t want to lose any of this because of a ghost.” Fayce’s mismatched eyes were intense and focused. She didn’t waver. 

Monika stared back. “Sayori’s not a ghost,” she murmured. “And you won’t lose me. You won’t lose this. I swear,” she spoke more loudly, clearly. Confidently. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t have abandoned Fayce, or split apart. Sayori had no effect any of this. 

Fayce shuffled her feet in the snow. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

“I can’t,” Monika replied. 

They stood there, silent, for a few passing moments. The wind blew through them. The trees cracked and groaned, the branches swayed and shook snow to the ground. Off in the distant horizon, the night had dominated the sunless sky. Eventually, Fayce crossed her arms. 

“I’ll take you,” she conceded. 

“You will?”

“If you’re going to deal with this, it won’t be alone,” Fayce puffed. 

Without thinking, Monika launched herself at Fayce, wrapping her arms around the girl, pulling her close and tight. Fayce shuffled back a step, off balanced, but slowly returned the embrace. It was like lighting a fire in the midst of the winter. Monika was warm,  _ safe,  _ and happy. “Thank you,” she repeated into Fayce’s collar. “ _ Thank you.” _

“Jeez,” Fayce laughed. “This is a little much, isn’t it?” 

Monika pulled back and caught a glimpse of the furious shade of red that had filled Fayce’s expression. “I’m just happy someone cares,” Monika said. 

“Well, I’m not leaving you to walk across the city. Or hitchhike,” Fayce said, waving it off. 

Monika giggled. “Alright, so when can we go?”

Fayce pondered for a minute. “It’s a little late to go now, to be honest. I’ve got things to do after school tomorrow, too. So, maybe Tuesday?”

_ Two days.  _ Monika furiously nodded. “That works.”

She could hold out for two days. 

~-~-~

Monika didn’t sleep that night. She’d tossed and turned in bed, fighting the rush of cold air through her window, the faint stain of alcohol in the air. Excitement had overwhelmed her, building and swirling in her gut. All the elements lined against her. After a few fitful hours of mixed sleep, her alarm blared and rocked her head. 

She showered, scrounged up some clothes, and ate a small breakfast. Her father was nowhere to be seen. He’d spent the weekend cooped up in his own room, the TV turned to a station of static, snoring for hours at a time. The few hours he had spent awake had not seen him try to check up on his daughter.  _ So much for things changing.  _ She waited for the bus, slipped in some earbuds and watched the blur of the world outside. 

She would see Sayori soon. Or, at least, she hoped she would. All the signs seemed to lead her to that house, across the entire city, the house Monika would visit tomorrow. She wondered what she’d say. Would she apologize?  _ What for? _ She didn’t remember any slights, any reasons to be sorry. She couldn’t just act like it’d be a completely happy reunion, though. If her haunting dreams told her anything, it was that there was bad blood there, some kind of incident between them, and Monika would have to face it. But first, she needed to learn what it was. 

Math was as torturous as usual. Monika tried to keep up, but was content with just copying the entire confusing lecture down and trying to go over it with Yuri later. She breezed through the other classes, until lunch came and she found herself seated at the usual spot, tucked away in an isolated corner of the cafeteria, Yuri and Natsuki sat in front of her. Natsuki was passionately going on about  _ something,  _ and Yuri was in complete disagreement. Monika idly played with her food.

Dreams were just dreams, but Monika couldn’t stop thinking about that twisted form of Sayori, and the stalking shadow in the halls. The voice that pierced her ears was like nails on the chalkboards.  _ My fault.  _ She had dug around her memories since the day she’d woken up, but found nothing about anything being her fault.  _ I confessed something. Love? Some kind of betrayal? Did I hurt her somehow?  _ It felt like her mind was trying to tell her something. Fayce had called it a bad omen. Yet, it didn’t suppress the consuming urge to find Sayori. Whether their separation was Monika’s fault or not, she needed to find the girl, to personally find out what happened, to finally close that disastrous chapter of her life. 

She’d move on, just as everyone wanted her too. This was her way of it. 

“Monika?” Yuri’s held was tilted. “Monika? Are you ok?”

Monika blinked. “Fine,” she said. “Why?”

Yuri and Natsuki shared a brief look. “Nothing,” Yuri finally said. “Just asked you a question.”

“What question?”

“She’ll agree with me!” Natsuki loudly snapped. “It’s a fact.”

Yuri shook her head. “Manga is  _ not  _ literature,” she said plainly. 

Monika couldn’t find any reason to care. Her mind was still flooded. She abruptly popped up, slid out of the bench, muttering excuses as she left the cafeteria. She needed to be alone, to think without the noise of the school around her. She quickly moved through the halls. Something slammed into her chest as she rounded a corner, and she stumbled back a step, nearly hitting her head on a wall. The near miss didn’t stop the rising pain, though.

Theresa frowned, arms crossed around her chest. “I think I once lectured you about running in the halls,” she said. 

Monika sighed. She tried to push past Theresa, but her path was suddenly blocked by the slightly taller girl. 

“Let me through,” she said. “I don’t want any trouble today.”

“No trouble,” Theresa said. “Just another lecture.”

Monika shuffled her feet on the tiled floor, her gaze glued firmly to the ground. She grit her teeth. “Then  _ talk. _ ”

Theresa inched closer. “You and Fayce are getting close, huh?” she said. “A bit too close.”

Monika rolled her eyes. “She’s not exclusively your friend, Theresa.”

“No, she isn’t,” Theresa hummed. “But you can’t be a friend to anyone. Not really.”

“What are you on about?”

“You know,” Theresa scowled. “I don’t care about the literature bitch and her shrimp of a companion. I don’t care if you find Sayori. But I do care about you ruining my friend.” 

“Ruin her?” Monika scoffed. 

“You know exactly what I mean,” Theresa snapped, inching ever closer. Monika took a quick step back. “I watched you spread it to Sayori. I watched you ruin her. That’s all you do, isn’t it? All you do is ruin lives. You did it to Sayori. Now you want to do it to Fayce.” 

Monika ground her teeth together. Her cane was gripped tightly in her hand, raised ever so slightly, an overwhelming desire to swing it bubbling in Monika. 

Theresa sweetly smiled. “Anyway, now that’s out of the way, I have a class to get to. Remember what I said.” She sauntered off, leaving a steamed Monika behind. 

_ All you do is ruin lives.  _ It rang like a bell in Monika’s mind, ever present throughout the rest of the day. She ducked past Yuri and Natsuki on her way out of the school, gave a cold greeting to Fayce and an excuse to be off, and stormed back into her own house. Theresa’s voice wouldn’t go away. The edged words dug deep, planted themselves firmly, and something at the back of Monika’s mind stirred in response. A dozen different feelings swirled within her. 

Monika’s head roughly hit the frigid pillow of her bed. She tossed and turned, fighting her own mind, grasping for sleep. When she finally found it,  _ she remembered. _

_ Your fault.  _

_ All you do is ruin lives. You did it to Sayori.  _

_ Your fault. _

Sayori was seated in front of Monika, a relaxed, dozing expression on her face. Monika’s back was against the rough bark of a tall tree. An angry river rushed ahead of them, just off the bank, the waters dirty and muddled, flooded by recent storms. Dead grass had been covered by colorful leafs fallen from bare branches. The evening sun cast crimson splotches across the cloudless sky, warming the air against the cool, autumn breeze. 

Sayori was humming some kind of soft tune. There was no pattern to the notes, no organization, but it was still a soothing sound. Monika sank further and further against the tree, her eyes growing a little too heavy, and she darted back up. Sayori turned with surprise. “Everything alright?” A bright smile was planted on the girl’s lips. Her hair was a soft pink, dyed down to the roots, and cut short, with a red ribbon strung up in the tangles. 

“Fine,” Monika giggled. “Just a little tired.”

“Tired?” Sayori blinked. “You slept most of the day! You’re not getting sick, are you?”

“No,” Monika said, crossing her arms in mock offense. “I wouldn’t be tired if someone hadn’t kept me up all night.” She still vividly remembered the blue glare of the TV screen, Sayori’s cheerful laughter at whatever movie had been playing, Monika’s hurried shushes as her father would angrily yell for silence. They’d retreated to the stream in the afternoon, after some sleep that only amounted to a power nap. Monika had listened to the rush of the stream’s cool waters for hours. Sayori had played dozens of games, passing the time in serenity. 

Monika had realized it then. 

A desire had begun to ache within her as she watched Sayori energetically bounce around. A burning desire to pull the girl close, to touch her, to hold her. To brush aside her hair, to connect their lips. In truth, the desire had been there for months now, always creeping up in strange, random moments, but Monika hadn’t understood it. Not until then, when Sayori leaned against Monika, resting her head against Monika’s shoulder. The wave of realization hit her like the angry, foaming stream of the river splashing off the rocks in a violent fury. Her head spun. All her life, people had been telling her to find a good man, to marry a boy, and she couldn’t understand why. Men seemed so… off-putting. Some of the boys her age had tried to date her, to ask her out, and she’d refused them all. She’d seen Theresa eagerly kiss her changing rotation of boyfriends, heard her talk of their vast qualities, but Monika didn’t understand how any of that sounded good, or appealing. 

Now Monika understood. Only the feelings weren’t aimed at a boy. 

“We should get back soon,” Sayori said with an adorable little yawn. 

“No,” Monika quickly said without thought. “We can stay for a little bit longer.”

~.~

Sayori’s grip on Monika’s hand was fierce as she was pulled through the thick woods. The colors of fall were in full swing now. The forest floor was coated in splotches of pink, yellow, and red, the branches above shaken bare by the brittle, frigid wind. The leaves crunched under Monika’s boots as she kept up with her closest friend. Another pair crept behind them, slightly slower. Monika looked back to see Theresa’s traditional scowl, though her dark eyes gave away that small joy veiled underneath. 

“Keep up!” Monika shouted.

“Then slow down!” Theresa shouted back with mock annoyance. 

Sayori didn’t slow down, so Monika couldn’t. They sped through the winding trail, through narrow holes between ferns and bushes, avoiding sharp thorns and vines. Through the sparse clearings in the canopy, Monika could see the towering shadow of the city’s steel towers, and the morning sun hanging behind them. Sayori had woken all three of them that morning, early as possible, when half the horizon was still darkened.  _ You’ll love it, _ she’d said, pulling them out of bed, eagerly leading them on this messy journey. Theresa had been angry at first, but the real anger slowly died down while the veil of the fake stayed. Monika had learned to see through it long ago.

The clearing was lined with the curve of bent trees. Remnants of a burnt campfire were gathered in the middle, next to a rock decorated in carvings and colorful drawings. Snack wrappers, bottles both glass and plastic, aluminum cans, and the filters of cigarettes littered the dirt and leafs. A wire fence, cut into and separated down the middle, blocked them from the busy road down below. 

Above, the city’s silhouette looked down on them. Monika could see the crowds of people in the streets, bustling about their days, paying them no mind. She heard the beeping of horns, the sirens of police cars, the industrial equipment for road work. 

Sayori leaned against the fence, one hand grappled onto the steel. The glitter of her bright, blue eyes shined in the sun, and a wide smile pulled at her lips. As the wind rustled her shortened hair, and her eyes gleamed up toward Monika and the smile grew brighter, Monika had to resist that all to familiar desire. It was a losing fight, at this rate. All she wanted to do was pull Sayori close, to hug her tightly, against the backdrop that barely matched the girl’s beauty. 

“Amazing,” she whispered.

Monika stepped up beside her. “It is,” she agreed. 

“Some of the guys at school told me about this spot. They party here, or something,” Sayori said, eyeing the scattered litter on the dirt. “I thought it’d be fun to see the sunrise here.”

“A little late for that,” Monika giggled, peering up at the pale sun. 

“You wouldn’t get up fast enough!” Sayori said, crossing her arms. “So it’s your fault!”

Monika laughed. “Mine? I seem to recall someone else wanting to eat something before we left. Then spending an hour making that  _ something. _ ”

Sayori frowned in mock offense. “Eating is important!” she said, shuffling her feet in the dirt. 

“We got here anyway,” Monika said, turning back to the city. “And it was worth it.”

Sayori was standing so close, just next to Monika, who found a cold hand unconsciously reaching out, as if to wrap around one of Sayori’s. Monika caught it, pulled it back just as Theresa approached from behind. 

“Well, this is nice,” Theresa said plainly. She planted herself on the decorated rock, put a hand on her chin. 

“Isn’t it?” Sayori gushed. 

~.~

Theresa was idly rapping a finger against the wood of the table. Monika set aside her plate, the roast cleaned off of it, and drank down the rest of her water. The soft ticking of a clock filled the air. A comfortable silence, really. Theresa and Monika shared those often. They hadn’t many interests in common, and were often polar opposites of each other, but Monika basked in the girl’s warm company, the way she could deflect the attention of the popular crowd at school, the way she tutored Monika in her struggling classes at home. Monika enjoyed digging under that cold exterior and finding the real person beneath. 

Theresa looked up at her and smiled. “Everything ok?”

“Maybe,” Monika replied. “I don’t know.”

Theresa narrowed her eyes. “Your dad? Because you’re always welcome to spend the night here, you know.”

“No, it’s not that,” Monika replied with a shake of her head. “It’s…” She sighed. “You have experience with relationships, right?”

Theresa laughed. “Oh, an odd question. Does Monika like a boy? Does she have a crush on someone? Is it Aaron? Because he’s totally asked about you.”

Monika coldly laughed. “Aaron? Ew. No fucking way.” She cleared her throat. “No, it’s…”

How could she put this? She sometimes would see it on TV, the way people treated her kind. The way people railed against the idea of attraction to the same sex. They’d say it was wrong, a corruption of love, something fabricated of abuse and twisted lies. Monika had suffered at the hands of her mother for her entire childhood. Was that the cause? But it didn’t matter. The attraction was there, and it was becoming impossible to ignore. 

“To be honest, I don’t really care  _ who  _ it is,” Theresa said. “I’ve just never seen you interested in anyone! So, who is it? Because I  _ will  _ arrange something, no matter who.”

_ No matter who.  _ Monika rubbed at the scabbed skin on her wrists. “It’s not a… boy,” she choked out, monitoring Theresa’s changing expression, the way her eyes blinked in realization. 

“Um,” Theresa scratched at the wood of the table, “you’re not… uh… it’s not a girl, is it?”

“It is,” Monika quickly forced out. 

Theresa’s scowl was real this time. Genuine. Terrifying. Monika had seen the real thing only a few times, but it had been a welcome sight, a weapon against bullies and harassers. Monika had never seen it turned against her. But now it dug into her, like a dagger. 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Theresa said. “It better not be me.”

“It’s not,” Monika croaked. She cowered into the chair.  _ I shouldn’t have said anything. _ She eyed the door, the piles of winter snow outside, eager to jump up and flee. 

“Then who?” Theresa snapped. Her eyes widened. “ _ Sayori?  _ No, you’d better not…”

“What’s wrong with that?” Monika asked. She sounded like a child, with a voice high in pitch, as though facing an angry parent after doing something wrong. There was no force in her weak voice. 

Theresa crossed her arms. “It’s not right for girls to have crushes on other girls,” she said, slowly, as though she was a mother explaining the rules. “We date  _ men.” _

“I don’t like men,” Monika muttered.

Theresa stared for a moment, wearing a piercing glare that only intensified the sharp desire to flee. Eventually, the girl across the table shook her head. “You’re fucked up,” she said. 

“I’m -  _ what? _ ” Monika sniffled. “No I’m not!”

“It was your mother, I think,” Theresa continued. “Probably her abuse. She made you this way.”

“No, it’s… I don’t…” Monika stared down at the table.  _ She’s right.  _ It was all true. Women and men were made for each other. Only the sick would deny such a hard woven fact. Monika had been beaten for everything in her youth, sharp slaps that gave discolored bruises for even the smallest mistake. The news had talked about what such things could lead to. Abuse giving way to depraved feelings, twisted emotions. Sometimes her father watched, and sometimes she watched with him. She knew it.  _ I’m sick.  _

“I can’t help you,” Theresa said. “Not really. And I don’t want you to spread this to me. I’m fucking  _ normal,  _ and it has to stay that way.”

Monika dug her nails into her arm, breaking thin scabs, and felt the familiar trickle of blood. She dug and dug, scratched until she felt the pain. Where was the warm Theresa she always spoke to? Why was this corruption, this face reserved for everyone else, lashing out instead? Monika didn’t need that. She was  _ sick.  _ She needed help. Theresa  _ always  _ helped. 

“You shouldn’t be around Sayori either,” Theresa continued, her voice completely straight and unbroken, lined with anger and venom. “She’s not yet like you, not as far as I’m aware, and it should stay that way.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Monika blurted out. 

“Hell if I know. Isn’t there some type of therapy for this?” Theresa replied. “Tell your dad. Maybe he’ll find something like that.”

_ I can’t.  _ She could only imagine his reaction. It wasn’t as though he much liked Monika, and if Theresa, who was amongst her best friends, was reacting like  _ this,  _ what would her dad think? She couldn’t tell him. It’d be a disaster much more widespread than this horrible conversation now. 

Monika weakly nodded her head. “I might,” she squeaked.  _ A lie. I don’t lie to friends.  _

The two grew silent. Theresa’s glare forced it to be horribly uncomfortable. The air was filled with unresolved anger, poisoned with revulsion. Monika saw it all in Theresa’s eyes.  _ She hates me. And why not?  _

“You should leave,” Theresa finally said. 

“I should,” Monika agreed. She numbly climbed to her feet, packed her things, and went for the door, feeling Theresa’s glare following her everywhere, like a twist of the knife. Monika had screwed it all up.  _ She’ll tell Sayori. She’ll tell Sayori and I’ll be alone. But maybe it’s for the best?  _

Monika was about to leave when she turned to Theresa. “Um, bye,” she said.

There wasn’t a  _ hint  _ of kindness, of warmth, in those dark eyes. “Just get out,” she said. 

~.~

Laughter rang through the room. Monika stood, red faced, fists clenched, and blood pumping, while Theresa bawled and rocked with everyone else. A dozen faces, standing all around, laughing and pointing, throwing slurs like knives. Monika turned on her heel and sprinted down the hallway, out of the cafeteria, and retreated into the first empty room she could find. 

She sat on a desk and sobbed. She didn’t even try to fight it that time. She could still hear the laughter, even if the cafeteria had moved back to its normal yelling and murmuring, but it was still there, firmly planted just out of hearing. The slurs punctured her skin. Theresa’s face was still in her blurry vision, wearing that horrible scowl, as though the girl Monika had known had been killed and a monster had worn her face. 

The door slipped open, and footsteps stormed across the tile. Monika didn’t bother to wipe her wet eyes, nor to look between the fingers of her hands as she covered her ruined face. But she already knew who it was. 

“That girl is a…” Sayori paused, breathing hard. “An utter  _ bitch. _ ” It was the first time Monika had ever heard the usually soft girl curse. “Such awful things to say!”

Monika continued to cry. Sayori lowered herself beside her, wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.  _ This isn’t right.  _ But Monika leaned into it anyway, enjoying the embrace, taking in the comfort. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Sayori ranted. “Friends don’t do that to each other!”

Monika wiped her eyes, looked up at Sayori. Sunlight painted her soft features, illuminated the out of place rage drawn on her eyes. But when their eyes met, Sayori’s glare dropped, and she tried on a small smile, a reassuring thing that soothed Monika. “It’ll be ok,” Sayori whispered. “Seriously. Next week no one will even care about this.” The words were almost convincing, but Monika knew better.  _ No one forgets this sort of thing.  _

The door opened again, and Sayori tensed. “Get out!” she snapped. 

“You shouldn’t be touching her,” Theresa said. “For your own good.”

“ _ Get out!”  _ Sayori screamed. 

“Why? Scared of hearing the truth?” Theresa walked over to them, and Sayori let go of Monika, jumped to her feet and clenched her fists. The two stood in front of each other, Theresa a head taller, both giving each other a dark look, stares made of daggers. “She’s a  _ freak, _ ” Theresa said. 

“You’re a liar!” Sayori stepped closer. 

“Defend her all you like, but it’s not helping. She’s  _ sick,  _ and she refuses to treat it! It’ll spread to you, sooner or later!” 

“So that’s what this is? Looking out for my health?” Sayori growled. “You’re a terrible person!  _ Get out!” _

Theresa looked between Sayori and Monika, but said nothing, only shrugged and backed away, all the way to the door. Sayori was still steaming, fuming with rage, but she lowered herself back beside Monika. 

“Screw her,” she said. “We don’t need her.”

~.~

The first day of spring was warm and lit by a bright sun in a cloudless sky. Winter’s harsh snows and bitter winds were just a faint memory now, as Monika sat at a porch table with Sayori. Spring break was approaching, and with it, the end of the semester was soon at hand. After the summer, they’d be seniors. After that? 

“I can totally get into Cornell!” Sayori beamed. 

“Cornell?” Monika blinked. “Maybe aim a little lower?”

Sayori crossed her arms and scowled in mock offense, earning a light giggle from Monika. “What, I’m not smart enough? I’m smarter than you!”

“No you’re not!”

“I saw your grade card!” Sayori laughed. “A  _ C _ in Algebra I? Really?”

Monika frowned. “I’ve been thinking about other things,” she idly said, resting her chin on the back of a scratched hand. Sayori’s expression dropped.  _ Oh no.  _ Monika quickly pulled her hand back, covered it with the sleeve of her unnecessary jacket, but the other girl snapped across the table and grabbed her hand with surprising strength. 

“You’re doing it again,” Sayori observed, scanning the fresh scabs and narrow slices. Monika wrenched her hand away. 

“Just sometimes,” she muttered.

“ _ Sometimes?” _ Sayori sighed. “You shouldn’t do it at all. It’s not-”

“I know!” Monika snapped. She’d do it all night, now, when the nightmares ended and the dread settled in. She’d scratch to the horrid tune of Theresa’s jagged voice throwing slurs her way, the laughter of everyone in that early December hell of a day. She was  _ sick,  _ and she needed to bleed it away. To release it. The scratches were a vector, a patchwork cure meant to treat the problem, but it wasn’t working. No matter what she did, no matter what words she told herself, she viewed Sayori the same way, all the time. 

Sayori recoiled at the sudden raise of Monika’s voice. The girl ran a hand through her freshly dyed hair. “Summer’s coming,” she said. “People will forget. You’ll see. Senior year and no one will remember anything. You’ll be left alone.”

“You’ve been saying things like that for weeks,” Monika said. “This doesn’t go away.”

“Everyone has lies spread about them in school!” Sayori said. “It goes away. Someone else will do something, and Theresa will move on, and the rest of the school will follow.”

Monika clenched her teeth. She averted her eyes from Sayori, and stared at the now green patches of grass spread along the lawn. Monika had to say something eventually.  _ Lies. She doesn’t believe. How will she react when she knows they’re true?  _

“Monika?” Sayori tilted her head. 

“They’re not lies.”

Sayori blinked. “What?”

“The rumors, the things Theresa’s saying, they’re not lies,” Monika quickly poured out. “They’re all true. That’s why it won’t go away! No one forgets because it’s all  _ true! _ ”

Sayori shook her head, sending strands of short hair flying loosely out of place. “They can’t be true,” she muttered. “You don’t really… not me? That’s not…”

Monika nodded.  _ Here it comes. The awful moment.  _ Dread set in as Monika grasped for the words. “I like you,” she said first. “Like, as more than a friend. Much more. I’ve known for months now. I told Theresa because I wanted advice, and that’s how she knows.”

Sayori’s eyes were blank. Her lips were glued into a frown. “I don’t understand…”

Monika took a shaky breath. “I never liked men, not like  _ this.  _ I think I love you, Sayori. But I don’t know what to do about it, because it’s  _ wrong,  _ and I know it.”

“It’s… I don’t… I’m not….” Sayori sputtered. “I’m not- I’m-  _ I like men!” _ Sayori finally broke, her face screwing with a sudden anger. “T-Theresa was right, you’re- this is-” She darted out of her chair, breathing ragged and eyes shooting across the lawn. 

“I know it’s wrong!” Monika said, fighting back the threat of tears. “But it’s the truth! And I was hoping- I wanted to- to…” She sighed. “I was hoping that we could just talk about it. Or try something. Maybe work it out, make something of this. Because even if they’re wrong, the feelings are still  _ there,  _ and I can’t ignore them.”

“No!” Sayori shouted. “No! This is just-” She bunched her fists in her hair. “It’s so-  _ I’m not a freak!  _ I can’t be! It’s not-!” She turned on her heel and dashed off, back toward the direction of her home, down the empty street. Monika rose, temptation to run after her bubbling to the surface, but she knew it was wrong. 

At the least, she could take solace in the fact that she hadn’t yet ruined Sayori.  _ She’s normal. She may hate me now, but she’s normal.  _

~.~

Monika was alone. She tried to ignore the passing glares, the venomous laughs, the thrown slurs, as she walked across the courtyard of the school. A brief glance was passed with Theresa, but there was no comfort to be found in those darkened, hooded eyes. She whispered something to her friends, and they all laughed at Monika.

Monika moped through the halls. She found her locker, ignored the  _ Dyke _ that had been written onto the steel, and grabbed the books for her first period class. She shuffled through the crowd, her eyes averted, refusing to meet anyone. 

Sayori ignored her too. She didn’t even give Monika glares, just a blank look. Her eyes were always blank. The color had seemingly been drained away from them, and she never seemed to smile anymore. She had no friends either. The two of them were alone, abandoned by the school, by their peers, and it was all Monika’s fault. Monika was diseased. It flooded through her veins, poisoned her mind. It hadn’t spread to Sayori. Yet she’d tried to. 

It was so selfish. Sayori was normal, just as Monika should’ve wanted, but that aching desire had bled through. She’d told Sayori. She’d tried to infect her. Sayori was smart, though, and rejected it completely. That didn’t stop the school from assuming, though. 

_ S&M _ had been carved or drawn onto various surfaces throughout the school A cruel joke. A jape that only further etched into Monika’s breaking mind. People would push the two against each other in the halls, laugh and encourage them to do horrible things to one another, spread rumors about what they’d do in private. It was ruining Sayori just as much as it was ruining Monika.  _ And it’s all my fault.  _

The summer couldn’t have come fast enough.  Monika would finally retreat home, isolate herself from the world, and never go outside, at least until the new semester started. No one would bother her. No one would pelt her with evil words. No former friends would keep twisting the knife.  _ And Sayori will be safe at her home as well.  _ Monika remembered Sayori’s parents inheriting a new house of some sort, across the city, away from this hell where everyone hated her. Monika hoped they’d move. She hoped they’d take Sayori away, far away, somewhere she’d be safe. 

Monika could bear one last year. Then she could run, away from the hellish city, away from the angry crowds that knew her darkest secret, away from her drunkard, negligent excuse of a father, away from the tarnished gravestone of her monster of a mother. America was a big place. She had plenty of places to go. 

~.~

Monika stopped at the door. It was a stupid idea.  _ But she’s all alone.  _ Sayori had once been a bright, beaming girl that could cheer up the worst of villains. Now it was all gone, replaced by a shell that was barely alive, and it was all Monika’s fault.  _ I’m obligated to try and fix this. To try and do something.  _

It was pointless, though. Sayori hated her now. A burning, stinging hatred that Monika saw every time she looked over at Sayori in the school halls. The image was carved into Monika’s mind by that point. 

_ But I have to try.  _

Monika weakly knocked at the door, and waited with a held breath as the knob twisted and a lock was turned. The door slipped slightly open. Sayori’s father looked out. Dark circles surrounded his dimmed, blue eyes, and a frown was etched upon his face. “Monika?” he said.

“Hi,” Monika said. “I’m, um, here to walk Sayori to school.”

The door pulled open the rest of the way. Sayori’s dad stepped aside and motioned her in. “Please, show yourself up,” he said with a sad smile. 

Sayori hadn’t been to school for nearly a week. Monika had tried to call, to text, but there was never a response. Worry plunged into Monika’s stomach, acting as the final straw, the final thing to finally get Monika to try and fix the damage she’d caused. Sayori might not have been happy to see Monika, but she needed to clear the air somehow, to try and change things. 

Monika lightly climbed the stairs, pattered down the hallway, muscles tense with worry. She found Sayori’s decorated door, lightly tapped on it. Something stirred on the other side, but the door didn’t move, even after she tapped a second time. Monika put her hand on the cold knob, and gently opened the door. 

Monika gasped, then screamed, as loudly as she could manage. Sayori swung from the ceiling, back and forth, a coarse rope tied tightly around her thin neck. Her face had begun turning twisted shades of red and purple. Monika rushed forward, her brain shut down, her emotions stuffed in a drawer somewhere, and grappled with the rope, pulling it from the ceiling fan. Sayori choked. Someone had come up behind her, screaming and sobbing, and Monika pulled as hard as she could, and the fan’s wing finally gave way, snapping in half and sending Sayori and the rope crashing onto the carpeted floor. 

Sayori coughed, gasped, and fought for air, and her father knelt over her, shouting for Sayori’s mother to call an ambulance. Her mother cried, choked tears out like a river, as she dug for her phone. Monika was blank. Somewhere, inside the dark corners of her mind, a voice was shouting, emotions were swelling, but thick adrenaline kept them stuffed away. Monika stood there. All she could do was watch the horrible, nightmarish scene unfold before her. 

She  _ ran.  _

She sprinted out of the house, slamming the front door behind her. She padded across the streets, down long sidewalks, until she couldn’t recognize her surroundings anymore. Her phone was buzzing in her pocket, and she turned it off, and just kept  _ running.  _

When she stopped, she was deep in a park trail, surrounded by blooming pine trees and the bright chirping of birds.  _ A fucking nightmare.  _ Monika collapsed in front of a tree, and the adrenaline finally died.

It all washed over her in a single, overwhelming wave. She cried, screamed, battered her fists against the dirt of the earth, peeled open her skin with her sharp nails, bled all over the grass, until the sun had set beyond the horizon and the stars surrounded her. Pale moonlight crept over the park. All she was doing now was staring at the ground. 

Her hands hurt. Her wrists burned. Her mind swirled with a thousand different feelings.  _ All my fault.  _ She’d killed Sayori. Had she just plunged a real knife through the girl’s heart, things would’ve been better, since at least someone would’ve punished her for the crime, but  _ no,  _ Monika had just worn the girl down until she was nothing. Until she decided that life wasn’t worth it. Monika had broken the bright, shiny girl that always uplifted her days, all because Monika was diseased. She was  _ wrong.  _ A freak.  _ I should be dead. Not her.  _

_ I should’ve had the rope around my neck.  _

~.~

The summer was a blur. Her father didn’t care, really, not that she had just lost a friend. Sayori’s parents had abandoned their house only a few days after the whole incident was over with, and Monika heard nothing from them. She’d frantically called Sayori’s cell for the first week, but she only got voicemail, until the line was unceremoniously disconnected. 

Monika’s arms were painted red and purple, the site of her anger, or her deepening depression. She knew what she was. She wanted the feelings to be gone, to be expelled of the disease inside her, but it didn’t go away, it  _ couldn’t  _ go away. No matter how much blood trickled into the sink, it wouldn’t just go away. 

Fall’s semester approached at the edge of summer, and Monika joylessly went back to the hellhole. Nothing had changed. People still treated her like the freak she was, only with renewed vigor after a summer free of it. Her gambit to join the literature club, to maybe climb out of the hole and try to make something new of her ruined life, had ended in disastrous failure that made everyone just laugh harder. Even the most timid girl in the school hated her now. 

Every night was spent sobbing, curled up in a cold bed, wondering if she’d finally just never wake up, wondering if death would be merciful. But even he couldn’t spare her kindness. One of the cuts on her arm had been infected, and seeped with puss and blood, aching to the touch. Monika let it fester. It would be her release, finally. A slow, agonizing release, yet still a release.  _ Yet not fast enough. _

And justice still needed to be reaped. 

Sayori had hanged herself. A rope strung around her neck and connected to the ceiling fan. It should’ve been a quick way out, a fast escape, if done right. Monika had researched the methods, looked into how it worked. She understood now. 

Monika should’ve been in Sayori’s place. Sayori should’ve been bright and cheerful, free of the horrible burden Monika forced onto her. If Monika wanted to be free, then she’d need to do it the way Sayori did, as proper punishment. 

Monika found a tough strand of rope in the garage, as her father drunkenly slept off another night in his room, his door shut and locked. Monika knew what had to be done. She shut her door, locked it, moved her desk in front of it. If her father somehow heard, he had no right to stop her. She climbed her bed, stood up to the fan, tied one end of the rope around the light fixture.  _ Sayori had done it with the wooden wings, and they were easy to snap. I’ll be smarter.  _ She brought the other loop tight around the flesh of her neck, until she felt the struggle to breathe. 

_ Freedom. _

~.~

Monika’s pillow was stained with tears when she awoke. Her whole body was freezing, shaking to the bones, and she pulled the blankets as close around her as she could. Her mind was swelling with anger, with depression.  _ I remember.  _

The morning sun gave way to the afternoon, and she didn’t stir. School didn’t enter her mind. All she could do was pick through the flood of memories, and recoil at their horrid contents. She wanted to know. Now she did.  _ My fault.  _

That  _ face, _ the swirls of horrid colors, the unnatural expression, was glued to Monika’s vision, and no matter how much she tried to blink it away, it was stained there. She fought back against the all too familiar urge to cut into her skin, to try and bleed the horrible disease out, but she’d learned. There was no disease to bleed out.  _ This is who I am.  _

Her phone breathed to life on her nightstand, vibrating with intensity, and she ignored it. Only one person would be calling her, and only for one reason. She was supposed to visit Sayori today. To drive across town, to knock on the unfamiliar door, to see that face. Monika needed to do it.  _ But I can’t. Not now.  _

When the sun had set over the horizon, and the pale moon barely lit her room, the ringing of her phone finally died. Her tears had nearly dried up, but the dry sobs continued to come, to dominate. She kept her face pinned against her stained pillow. Her father had walked in some time ago, but hadn’t checked on her.  _ Why would he? _ She tried to let sleep consume her, struggling for some kind of break from the torture, but she found nothing. If sleep found her, it’d only be more memories anyway. The last thing she needed.

She didn’t stir even when someone rang the doorbell. Her father’s voice came muffled up the stairs, followed by the muffled voice of a woman.  _ Familiar.  _ Monika didn’t look up, didn’t move, not even when she heard the soft crack of the wood underneath the stairs, not even when she heard the creaking of her door sliding open. 

Someone sat at the edge of her bed. Monika’s face was still glued to her pillow, blocking out the light. A few silent moments passed. Monika didn’t need to hear or see the stranger to know who they were. Only one person cared enough to do something like this. 

Fayce laid out, next to Monika, her warm body right up against her. A soft finger brushed aside a strand of Monika’s hair, gently rubbed against the skin of her cheek. Monika shifted to her side, peeling her still wet face from the cloth of her pillow, turning to see two deep colors,  _ blue and gold, _ staring back at her.

Fayce smiled warmly. “You didn’t come to school today,” she whispered.  _ As good as any place to start, I suppose.  _

“Didn’t feel up to it,” Monika replied.  _ Obviously.  _ She could only imagine the mess her face was in. 

“Tell me about it,” Fayce said, softly as ever. Those two mismatched eyes stared warmly back at her, soothing the shivering, quelling the fire in her mind. Monika sniffled, choked back a small sob, and Fayce wrapped an arm around her, pulled her closer, whispering soothing words.

So Monika told her. Everything. All that she was able to remember, all the night’s horrible images, the entire nightmarish scene. All the while, her body was rocked with violent sobs and cries, the force of the expelled emotions, but it felt  _ good.  _ It was all in the air now. She’d admitted everything out loud, to someone else.  _ It was right.  _

No matter what Monika said, Fayce held her tight, kept her pulled close. She didn’t say anything. Not through the entire confession, not through the occasional incoherent rant, or nonsensical recollection of a certain event. She was just  _ there.  _ Listening. There was no judgement in her eyes, no signs of anger or repulsion drawn at her face, just a soft gaze and soothing words of calm. Midnight trickled by, giving way to the dark of the morning. Fayce was still there. 

Fayce was silent once all the words had been said. Monika’s sobbing died down, giving way to soft cries. The horrible depression deep within her subsided, giving way to the guilt, to the rage. She held it all back, stuffed it into the corner of her mind, where it belonged. Instead, she just felt…  _ relieved.  _ The words had been said. It was done. 

Now she might’ve gotten the judgement she deserved. 

But Fayce just stayed with her, soothed her, held her. There was no judgement here. Just a girl who cared. 

“You’ve been dealing with this the entire time?” Fayce said with a slight shake of her voice. Monika could just nod. “That’s…” She sighed. “That’s horrible.”

“All my fault,” Monika mindlessly said, another sub threatening to rise. 

“No,” Fayce sternly said. “None of this is your fault.”

“It is. If I hadn’t-”

“There are a great many things to blame for this,” Fayce continued. “Many people. But you’re not one of them. You’re just someone dealing with feelings for the first time, feelings people wrongly think are forbidden.  _ None of this is your fault. _ ”

The words, no matter how true or false, wouldn’t stick with Monika though. She bit back any retorts, knowing they’d be useless. Fayce wouldn’t agree.  _ Because she’s right? Or because she’s my friend, and supposed to comfort me?  _

Whatever the truth, Monika was growing warry. Her eyes burned, dry and weighted, begging for sleep. Her body was exhausted, not even able to shake. The sobs stopped in her throat, she hadn’t the strength to let them out anymore. Monika nuzzled closer to Fayce, let her eyes close. “I still need to see Sayori,” she muttered. 

“Whenever you want,” Fayce said. 

_ Soon. But not now.  _ Monika basked in the comfort of Fayce’s arms, and let the embrace of a dreamless sleep wash over her.  _ Soon.  _

 


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might be asking "why did it take you five days to write 3895 words?" To which I'll reply "because I wrote four different drafts and agonized over which to use." 
> 
> We've hit the halfway mark, by the way. Assuming I don't go off and redo the plot. Again. 
> 
> Speaking of which, I'll be going through the earlier entries soon to fix up some language and make everything flow a bit better. There are some obvious holes that resulted from two plot revisions, and I intend to patch them up so new readers get a better experience. Nothing that calls for a reread, really. Just something that helps the story a little.

“You can still back out, y’know,” Fayce said.

Sayori’s house blended into the rest of the neighborhood. The building hadn’t seen much maintenance in years, from obvious looks, and the walls were missing pieces of siding, a gutter hung off from the low roof, and the garage door was battered and dented. A single car, as broken and beaten as the house, sat on the steep driveway. It didn’t look like much. Yet, the GPS had led them there.

Monika took another deep breath. It’d been a week since her mind had pulled her in for a terrible journey through a hell of memories. She’d spent time steeling her nerves, trying to think of what she’d say, imagining dozens of possible scenarios, but even with all her preparation, actually being in front of the house and on the brink of walking up and knocking on the door fluttered her nerves and short circuited her brain. Her hands nervously shook, and she’d etched white marks on the skin of her arms. It seemed like she could never catch her breath, no matter how many breaths she took. 

Fayce leaned a hand over and rested in on Monika’s. “You really don’t have to do this today, if you don’t want to. We can come back some other time.”

“No,” Monika suddenly said. “No. I need to do this.” If she walked away now, after physically getting this far, she’d never come back. It’d be an admission of defeat. She wasn’t going to run. She grabbed her cane, gripped it tight enough to send jolts of pain up and down her fingers, and took yet another deep breath. 

“Ok,” Fayce softly said, retracting her comforting hand. “I’ll be out here. If you need anything, just let me know.”

Monika nodded, then started out the car door and up the concrete of the driveway. Winter’s bitter chill bit through her coat, and her stunted legs seemed to struggle with the climb, but she elongated the walk as much as she could.

For all she knew, no one would answer. Then she’d be forced to leave. For all she knew, there was no Sayori inside. This was her only lead, however. No matter who was beyond those walls, she’d either meet Sayori, or find out more about her current location. It was a necessary trip. 

Monika stopped in front of the door. She tried to steady herself, to put on an expression that was convincingly calm, but she was on the brink of a sudden panic attack, and her face chose to show that. She dug her nails into the wood of her cane as she brought a hand to the door and knocked thrice. 

An eternity seemed to pass before the steel doorknob twisted and the door slowly slid open. A woman’s face, angular and gaunt with eyes surrounded by sagging, dark bags, peered out at Monika, no signs of a warm, welcoming expression there. Monika cleared her throat and nervously took a final deep breath.

“Hi,” she began simply enough. “I’m Monika. Um, I was wondering if Sayori was here?”

Her heart thumped fast and hard in her chest as the woman opened the door a little more and looked over Monika. The woman crossed her arms after a few uncomfortable seconds, and frowned. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to be here.”

Monika’s words were caught in her throat. She’d expected one such scenario, but whatever she’d resolved to say in response slipped her mind, almost as though running away from the scene. Her knuckles burned around the tightened grip of her cane. “I, um, just wanted to t-talk with her. Just f-for a moment, or two maybe,” she forced out. 

“I don’t think that’s going to be possible,” the woman said with a shake of her head. “Sayori’s still recovering. Her father and I deemed it necessary for her to no longer be surrounded with stress triggers. I’m sorry, but you will have to leave.”

Monika’s gaze fell down to the ground, and her shoulders sagged in defeat.  _ That’s it?  _ She clamored for a retort, something comforting, anything to break up the harsh atmosphere, but found nothing. She was about to admit the defeat when another voice echoed from further in the house, a much younger voice. A very familiar voice. _ “Let her in.” _

The woman turned around, looked over her shoulder. “Are you sure? Maybe it’s not-”

“It ok,” Sayori said. “Let her in.”

The woman sighed, turned back to Monika with a dejected expression on her tired face. She opened the door the rest of the way and stood to the side. Monika stepped through.

The interior was, at least, snazzier than the exterior. The walls were freshly painted, decorated with some pretty pictures of nature and distant places. Newly installed carpet gave the place a bit of a homelier scent, alongside a faint hint of roses, and the cooking of a meal. The rustling of paper could be heard, alongside heavy footsteps on tile. 

Sayori stood on the middle of the staircase. Her eyes were fixated on Monika, widened in surprise, but the rest of her face remained neutral. There weren’t any signs of stress, or of anxiety, and she looked much better than the bleak image Monika’s last memories painted of her, though there was still a noticeable lack of brightness. Her hair had gone back to its natural shade of blonde, cut short as always, a small bow hastily tied in to keep strands from falling onto her face. 

Monika fished for words. There was so much to say. Her mind threatened lengthy apologies, nonsensical sobs fought toward the surface, but all Monika settled on was a stuttered, “hello.” Silence took the room over for a moment, Sayori’s unreadable expression staring at Monika.

“Why’re you here?” she finally asked. Monika blinked.  _ Why?  _

The first plan was simply to find out what happened to drive the two of them apart. Monika’s brain had seen to making that plan needless. Instead, she’d been left with what?  _ To apologize? To try and fix things? To figure out how she’s doing? _ Truthfully, Monika no longer had real reason to be there. An apology could only go such a long way to fixing the devastation between them. 

“To…” Monika stopped. “I don’t really know, to be honest. I just sort of managed to find the house, and I guess I just blindly came out here.”

She needed it for closure, really. Though what exactly that meant was slipping her mind.  _ Closure. To move forward.  _ Maybe an apology would've started that process, but Monika found herself bitterly outside her element, not knowing what to do. 

Sayori blinked. Her guarded eyes looked to her mother, then back at the fidgeting Monika. A few tense seconds passed, Monika lost in thought, a thousand different scenes sprinting through her overwhelmed mind. Eventually, Sayori gave a stern nod. “Maybe we should talk somewhere else.”

“Are you certain that’s a good idea?” Sayori’s mother asked in a voice edged with concern. 

“It’s fine,” Sayori assured. “I’ll be fine. C’mon, Monika.”

Sayori led her up the stairs, Monika taking her time after already being exhausted from a climb up a steep driveway. Down the hallway, Monika was taken into a small room at the end. It was rather…  _ drab.  _ Compared to Sayori’s older room, which Monika remembered being filled to the brim with bright colors, cheery art, and cheesy posters, this room was decorated with plain grey walls, a closet without any flair, a desk packed with schoolwork, and a bed dressed in dark sheets. Regardless, there were still a few signs of the old Sayori inside; a phone sat on the nightstand, decorated in a bright red case covered in flower stickers, a big, stuffed cow mindlessly thrown off in the corner, next to the window, and some assorted, smaller postcards lightly taped onto the side of a dresser. Monika’s head was almost thankful for the lack of lighter colors. Sayori sat on her bed, tightly guarded eyes staring up at Monika. 

“Um,” Monika cleared her throat and struggled for more words. 

Thankfully, Sayori decided to break the ice. “How’ve things been?”

_ A decent start.  _ She couldn’t exactly just jump into things. Yet, she wouldn’t lie and claim that the past few months have been anything but absolutely horrible, save the end of November. Monika sighed. 

“Not well,” she said. “A little well, maybe, but it’s mostly just… bad.”

Sayori tilted her head. “I can imagine.” The edge of her thin neck was against the light of the window, and Monika could make out the faint trace of discolored skin, not nearly as blatant as Monika’s hideous scar that she’d stopped trying to hide, yet still noticeable under such conditions. 

“How about you?” Monika asked. 

“Better than before,” Sayori replied with a small shrug. “I’m still not… well. But, I’ve been getting better. My therapist is helping, and I was put on some medication.”

“That’s good to hear,” Monika said under her breath. “What about school and such? Or friends?”

“I’ve been taking classes online,” Sayori said. “There are some people in my support group I talk to, but no friends, not really.” Her expression fell. “It’s not like I had many friends before, huh?”

“Not really your fault. Most of the people back home are sort of…” Monika grasped for a word that wasn’t excessively harsh, but Sayori caught on and gave a small nod. 

Another moment passed. Sayori had started to say something, then faltered, and her gaze fell out the window. “How’s…” she started again, then hesitated, but powered through. “How’s Theresa?”

“She’s…” Monika paused. “Same as always, I guess. I don’t talk to her if I can help it. She did help me with your last name, though.”

“My… what?” Sayori looked curiously over at her. “You forgot that?” 

_ At least we have a starting point.  _ “I’ve forgotten a lot of things,” Monika sternly replied. 

“How does that happen? Is everything alright?”

“I don’t really know where to begin,” Monika said plainly. She moved to sit beside Sayori, and the girl flinched and moved slightly away, eyes briefly lit with startle. Her expression almost immediately dropped back, though, leaving Monika no time to examine it farther. “I, um, maybe I should start at the beginning?” It seemed logical enough, at the least. The flood of memories had connected all the dots, and Monika had the full story. It’d be easy enough to pick through them.  _ Hopefully without breaking down.  _

“If you want,” Sayori softly said. “Just don’t try and press yourself? You don’t need to say anything you don’t want to.”

Monika gave a fierce shake of her head, sending loose strands of hair whipping around. “You deserve to know. Everything. The entire story.”

So Monika told her. All of it. She started from the tearful beginning, choking down sobs and early apologies. She walked through the terrible summer’s aftermath, of the dreary days that ticked by without her even noticing, of her overwhelming sense of guilt. She moved on toward the fall semester, of the start in the early days of August, of how nothing at school had changed, and how the venom still seeped into her veins. She finally broke down at the finality of it all. The fateful moment she made the crippling decision, and of how the rope snapped, leaving her alive, albeit with a damaged brain that locked away key memories. 

Sayori sat and listened through it all. She didn’t move to comfort Monika during her breakdown, though her eyes fell into a gaze of sympathy, of pity. She didn’t speak. There were no comforting words, no retorts, no comments, not until Monika began sobbing out apologies. 

“None of this is your fault,” Sayori sternly said. “If anything, wouldn’t it be my fault?” She gave a nervous, half hearted grin. 

“How?” Monika bitterly laughed. “If it weren’t for me, you’d never have… Theresa never would’ve… you’d be at school,  _ happy,  _ not here recovering.”

“You shouldn’t have bottled feelings up anyway!” Sayori said. “That’s one of the first things I learned, once I got here. You have to let things out. You did that! I’m the one who reacted so… awfully. I…” Sayori sniffled. “I ruined everything.” 

Monika’s head jerked up. She almost reached a comforting hand out, but resisted the nerve, not knowing what the consequences would be. “I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place,” she said with a firm tone. “You weren’t ready. No one is ready for that kind of thing. It was selfish of me, and stupid, and awful…” Monika wiped away a stray tear, and tried to straighten her trembling voice. “This is all my fault. I  _ destroyed  _ you! Almost killed you, even.”

Sayori inched slightly closer. “ _ No, _ ” she said with a surprisingly steely tone. “I was a terrible friend. I just completely shut you off when you needed me, after everything, because of my own horrible thoughts. I mean, what people were saying about us,  _ about me, _ I just sorta started shutting it all out. If I hadn’t, maybe we’d be better off.”

“And if I had never said anything in the first place…” Monika chuckled. “Look at us. We keep shifting the blame to ourselves.”

Sayori lightly giggled, a hint of brightness filling those bright blue eyes. “Maybe…” She hesitated. “Maybe it’s neither of our fault’s. Or maybe it’s both of us. I don’t know.” Her expression grew distant again. “Maybe it’s time to just move on from it? That’s what my therapists say, at least.”

“That’s what mine says, too,” Monika agreed. “Originally, I’d wanted to come here to find out what happened between us, back when I couldn’t remember. Now, after I figured it all out, I just don’t really know why I came all this way. I just know that I had to do this, to get closure, and to move on,” she added, slowly drawing out the words. 

Monika hadn’t really taken the time to consider Sayori’s possible situation. Others had worried Monika was making a mistake, that she might’ve broken herself all over again after she’d begun putting the pieces back together, and all Monika could think about was getting to Sayori. But she hadn’t considered. Sayori could’ve been much worse than the girl before her. Sayori could’ve been a depressive wreck, and a sudden reentrance of Monika into her life could’ve ended horribly. She’d not even considered such a possibility.  _ Selfish.  _

But she was here now. 

“I’ve been trying to move on for months,” Sayori said. “It’s been… hard. I have to accept so many things now. Like, I like guys and girls both. And that hurts. I don’t know why, but it  _ hurts.  _ I have to accept it, and welcome it into my life, but I don’t really know how yet.” Sayori’s eyes were glistening, shades of tears ready to fall at any given moment, but Sayori smiled anyway. “I wondered about finding you, or maybe calling you. I thought it could help.”

”Has it?”

Sayori shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I hope it will. Everyone’s always telling me to get out of the house more and make friends, but I can’t really find the energy.” She looked to Monika. “What about you? Is any of this helping?”

“I don’t know yet,” Monika echoed, punctuated with a fit of nervous giggling. “I wanted to think it would. I still think this’ll turn out well, in the end. But, I don’t honestly know.” 

“Well,” Sayori said, smile brightening, “we’ll find out.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “Have you made any friends?”

“A few,” Monika replied. “Remember Yuri and Natsuki?”

Sayori beamed. “Natsuki! She spent a lot of time reading those, um, Japanese comic… things.” She lightly scratched her nose. “And Yuri was that quiet girl, I think. She was tall! And read, a lot. Like,  _ a lot  _ a lot.” 

Monika laughed with a confirming nod. “Yup. Yuri’s president of the literature club now. I think she enjoys it. Natsuki helps her out. To be honest, I think…” She stopped. “No, maybe I shouldn’t say anything.”

“What?” Sayori eyed her with curiosity. “You can’t just start a thought and not finish it! What were you gonna say?”

“Nothing, I just-” Monika blinked. There  _ probably  _ wasn’t any harm in telling Sayori. “I think those two like each other. I mean, in ways other than friends, y’know?”

Sayori tensed up a moment, her face tightened, and there was an odd look in her eyes, but almost a second later it was all gone, back to the other Sayori. Monika hadn’t time to think about it. “I can’t see those two together,” she said with a giggle. “Natsuki would probably drive Yuri crazy. But-! It’d be cute to see them in public holding hands or something.”

“Maybe. I’ve had an image of them married out in the countryside or something,” Monika added with a suitable laugh. “Anyway, um, there is someone else, too.” 

She didn’t know whether is was a good idea to mention it. She had few memories of Fayce during the period of hell, as most of Theresa’s followers were mostly faceless in her mind. 

Sayori narrowed her eyes. “Who?”

“Do you remember Fayce?” Monika said, slowly, mincing the words. “The girl with the mismatched eyes? She has heterochromia.”

Sayori’s expression was thoughtful a moment, before her eyes widened in realization. “Oh,” she said plainly. “I sort of remember. She was with Theresa a lot, I think.”

“Yeah,” Monika said. “She drove me out here.”

“Oh,” Sayori said again. Her face had noticeably dropped, but it didn’t last for long. She looked back over at Monika. “But you are making friends then? That’s good. Friends are good.”

“Just those three, really,” Monika confirmed. 

Sayori grew silent. There was something  _ off  _ about her expression. The color had seemingly been drained from those bright blue eyes, narrowed to slits and focused on something on the far wall. Her foot tapped the floor, as though impatient or nervous. She was scratching at the sheets with poorly trimmed nails. Monika had been about to comment, but the girl brightened again with a smile. 

“As long as things are getting better with you, then I’m happy,” Sayori said. Monika blinked. Her tone felt forced. Her smile was faltering just slightly. 

“Are you ok?” Monika asked. 

“Fine!” Sayori replied curtly. She beamed over at Monika, bright as a summer sun, as though the fall off had never happened. “Really. One day I’ll have the energy to go out meet people on my own, but without school, I’ve kinda felt cut off from the world.”

“That’s not good,” Monika said. 

“No! There are those guys in my support group who are awfully nice, but I think they just sorta pity me? And I don’t want pity,” Sayori said. 

“Y’know, my old number is still the same. You can call, or text, or something, if you ever just want to talk,” Monika cut in. Sayori’s mood noticeably rose. 

“I will!” she said. “It gets lonely here sometimes. So…” She yawned, a bit loudly, and Monika found herself checking her phone, and almost recoiling at the time.  _ Has it really been that long?  _ Sure enough, a brief glance out the window revealed a falling evening sun, painting the sky in deep shades of crimson, a few stray snowflakes falling to the earth.  _ Fayce’s been out there for… oh dear. _ There weren’t any texts from the girl, though. Or calls. Monika saw her still parked on the street, her silhouette in the driver’s seat.  _ No doubt anxiously wanting to go home.  _

Monika stirred, standing up from Sayori’s bed and stretching her somewhat sore legs. “I think I should get going,” she said. 

Sayori frowned, but looked over at a flowery, decorated alarm clock next to her bed and nodded. “I didn’t realize it was that late.”

“Neither did I,” Monika said with a laugh. 

Sayori stood up, and surprised Monika with a tight hug, though with a body that was  stiffened and almost recoiling against the contact. Monika returned it as best she could. They lingered that way for a brief moment. 

“Thanks for coming by,” Sayori said. “I think I needed this.”

“I did too,” Monika said. They parted, and Monika was led out the house. 

Fayce was on her phone, the bright blue screen lighting her bored face. She glanced over as Monika climbed in the passenger seat. “How’d it go?” she asked with a reluctant glance. 

“I think it went well,” Monika replied. 

“Good,” Fayce breathed. She started the car, and drove for the freeway, Monika peering back to see Sayori cheerfully waving on her porch.  _ I think it went well.  _

A moment later, while on the freeway, Monika’s phone vibrated. She pulled it out, slid the screen open.

**_Unknown Number, 8:29:_ ** _ hiiii it’s sayori do i have the right number _

**_Monika, 8:30:_ ** _ You do.  _

**_Unknown Number, 8:30:_ ** _ good  _

**_Unknown Number, 8:30:_ ** _ wait this is monika right  _

**_Unknown Number, 8:30:_ ** _ cause if it isnt then your a creep _

Monika giggled.

**_Monika, 8:31:_ ** _ It’s me. _

She gazed back out the window, at the rows of passing cars illuminated by the pale moon above. Going in, she had no idea what to expect. Her mind had thought of a dozen scenes, some good, some bad, but the real thing felt to be mostly  _ good.  _ She’d done what she needed to do. Now Sayori was back in her life. 

Maybe it could’ve been the start to something fresh. She’d been starting anew in most other parts of her life, so why not this one too? Her memories painted a bright picture of Sayori, a picture Monika would’ve happily accepted back.  _ Perhaps I’ll be able to soon.  _

Fayce looked over at her. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Monika confirmed with a nod. “Everything’s fine.”

“‘kay,” Fayce said. “So, it went well, huh?”

“In my opinion, yeah,” Monika replied, tearing her gaze from the road. There was a hint of concern in Fayce’s mismatched eyes, buried beneath a false sense of joy. Monika saw through it easy enough. But Fayce said nothing, and went back to the road, bringing them through the city. 

“What about you?” Monika found herself asking. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Fayce said with an exaggerated smile. “I was expecting something… No, never mind. It went well. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m certain. Honest. Just…” Fayce sighed. “No, nevermind. Just forget I said anything.”

“If you want,” Monika said with a shrug. She didn’t really want to drop it, but Fayce was clearly not going to talk.  _ If she has concerns, she’ll probably air them out later.  _

“Thanks for taking me,” Monika said, looking back out the window, idly rapping her fingers on the armrest. 

“‘Tis no problem,” Fayce said. “Like I said, I don’t want you to be alone for this.” 

Monika said nothing. Instead, she reached a stern hand out, and rested it on top of Fayce’s free hand sitting on the console. Fayce was tensed, almost flinching at the contact, but noticeably relaxed as Monika ran her fingers over soft knuckles. “Seriously,” she said, quietly. “Thanks for this. It’s helped.”

“I hope so,” Fayce said after a silent moment. “I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know if I made the right call to use this draft. I've got three others that could be better. I honestly don't know, but I really hope it was good! Or, at the least, decent!


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finals season! You know what that means! Absolutely no free time!!! Ugh
> 
> So, yeah, my schedule is a little rough for the coming weeks. I don't really have much time to do, well, anything but study and prepare. That leaves this little story to gather dust, alongside all my other non-priority stories. Also, the arrival of summer (Ohio seems content to skip spring) has sapped away much of my energy. 
> 
> Originally, this entry was supposed to be longer, but it took me this long just to get this much done and I don't want you folks thinking this story's gonna be abandoned. Because it's not! No matter how long the time grows between entries, I swear I'm writing them. Considering how much thought and effort I've put into this so far, I'm not abandoning it. So instead of filling in the other half of this entry, I decided to put this out there. Count on the other part being up in a week or so, or maybe more, depending on how much my workload increases over the coming days. It sucks establishing a proper routine and really getting into writing a story, then having it taken away from you, but sadly that's where my life is right now. 
> 
> Also, I breached 100 kudos recently. Which is... wow. Thanks to everyone for your continued support!

Sayori was seated at the other end of the table, her seemingly ever constant grin lighting her face alongside the sun pointed against her. She stirred her tea a bit, sipped, recoiled at the heat, and giggled infectiously at herself. Monika couldn’t help but laugh along, a bit louder than intended.

Sayori looked up with mock hurt, but the smile was still painted on the bright blue of her eyes. “Are you laughing at me? Rude.”

Monika shook her head, suppressing her smile with all her willpower. “No, honestly. Just remembered something from a while ago.”

“Yeah? What?”

Monika fumbled quickly around her mind for some kind of joke, but found nothing. Her lie had been caught. “Ok, maybe I was laughing at you…”

“Rude!” Sayori cried, crossing her arms. She glared for all of a few seconds, before coming down with a cheery fit of laughing. 

The day had been going well thus far. Christmas break was in swing, and Monika had promised to see her oldest friend as soon as she was able. Her father’s constant occupation kept him unavailable. Fayce had been busy, apparently distracted by her foster mother’s desire to make Christmas magical or something. So, Monika had been forced into drastic measures. During the night, she’d crept into her father’s rancid, untidy room, and swiped some cash from his wallet as silent as she could be. She’d used that money to buy a bus ticket, and spent an hour on the bus ride, her earphones in and her eyes fixed on the horizon, her mind occupied on making a day of the visit. 

Sayori and her usually texted at night. Sayori had a tendency to stay up into the dark of the morning, and would often send unsolicited funny videos and pictures, and Monika would be wide awake in fits of laughter. Yet, other than that, they hadn’t talked all that much. Sayori seemed averse to serious subjects, preferring instead to deflect and talk about Monika, or find a livelier topic. It did nothing to help Monika’s concern over her friend’s health. 

Monika knew from personal experience that something as horrible as a suicide attempt doesn’t leave one without open wounds, both physically and mentally. She’d spent months in the hospital, on different courses of meds and rotating through a dozen psychologists before she was cleared to leave. Sayori had to have gone through something similar. The healing didn’t stop there, though. At school, Monika was thrown in on her own, and forced to adapt to her old world without retreating back into her shell. She liked to think she’d succeeded, at least partially.

Sayori had no other friends. Most of her time, by her own admission, was spent at home, mostly interacting with her mother, stewing in her own thoughts and memories. She claimed that she had lacked the energy to go out and meet people. A lack of energy had, indeed, been growing to become her primary excuse for not doing anything, even waking up in the mornings. 

Monika saw cause for concern. She’d even cancelled plans with a rather peeved Natsuki to make it to Sayori’s for the second day of break. 

Sayori, at least, seemed somewhat happy to see Monika. Her parents were off on a business trip, an apparently common occurrence. With the house to themselves, Monika had made tea, and they’d chatted over various small things, or talked about a game Sayori was playing.  _ So far, so good.  _

Monika’s phone vibrated. She put it on silent and ignored it for now.

Sayori sipped her tea again, blowing on the steaming contents, and grinned. “Tastes nice when it’s not burning my poor tongue.”

“I certainly thought so,” Monika said. She sipped at her own cup, let the flavor wash over her mouth. 

“You know what else would go great with this?” Sayori beamed. “Cookies!” Before Monika could react, she’d eagerly jumped out of her chair and bounded to the kitchen, fishing around cabinets and making an awful rukus. Monika’s ears popped at the shrill sound of shattered ceramic clashing against the tile floor.

“Nooooooo….” Sayori yelped. Monika quickly made her way into the kitchen. An awful mess of scattered parts of a broken plate surrounded a grimacing Sayori. The girl peered around, stepping lightly as she made her way to a pantry and slipped out a broom. 

“Oops,” Monika lightheartedly said. Sayori weakly grinned, but her gaze fell back to the mess, and she slowly began picking at the remains, sweeping it up and avoiding shards as best she could. Until…

“Ow! Oh no!” Sayori flung the broom across the room and jumped away on a single leg, gripping her other foot, almost collapsing before Monika reached out and steadied her. Her face was pained, painted with a shade of crimson, and her eyes glistened. 

“Go sit down,” Monika insisted, guiding her out of the kitchen and into the living room. Sayori lowered onto the couch. “Where are some bandages?”

“Bathroom,” Sayori replied in a low voice. Monika nodded and took off, finding the bathroom and needed supplies. She returned to Sayori and patched up the poor girl’s foot, cleaning it up and wrapping it tight, Sayori’s face stained with a pinch of agony. 

“I’ll clean up the rest. Just stay here, ok?” Monika made her way back to the kitchen and swiped the broom up, taking careful measures not to mindlessly step on a shard and open her own foot up. After a few minutes of painstaking hopping around and brushing shards into the dustpan, she dumped it all off in the trash, content that it’d all been cleaned up. 

She sat beside Sayori on the couch. The girl had her eyes closed, her fists clenched. “Thanks,” she said. “And sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m such a screw up,” Sayori said with a lazy, halfhearted smirk. “All I wanted was cookies! And I broke a plate! So clumsy… And-! You shouldn’t have needed to clean up after me. Ugh.”

“It’s fine,” Monika said with a wave of her hand. “Seriously. Accidents happen.”

“It shouldn’t have.” Sayori sighed. “I do stupid stuff like that all the time! I mean, I burned my hand cooking breakfast yesterday, and I cracked my phone screen last week, and it’s usually someone else cleaning up my messes…”

“Sayori, it’s-”

“Anyway!” Sayori gleefully sat back up, her expression changing back to the bright, cheery smile and lightened eyes, as though she’d thrown on a new mask. “Now that  _ that’s  _ out of the way, we should probably plan dinner, or something.”

“What?” Monika blinked, her mind still fixated on the subject before.  _ Abrupt change.  _ “Sayori, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine, Monika. And I’m sorry for messing up. And that you had to clean up after me. I mean, imagine if you weren’t here!”  _ You probably wouldn’t have been in that situation?  _ “But I can make it up to you! We have, like, a dozen pizza places around here. Just pick one! I think my parents left cash around here somewhere.”

_ Guess we’re not going to dwell.  _ Monika nodded. “And where would this cash be, exactly?

“Somewhere?” Sayori gazed around. “Maybe in my room. Or on the counter? I really can’t remember.”

“Guess I can go look-”

“No!” Sayori climbed off the couch and grimaced as her feet hit the carpet. “I’ll look for it! You just stay here, I’ve got this covered!”

“You can barely stand,” Monika observed. Sayori was leaning on her uninjured foot, using a hand on the couch for support, and her face was all scrunched up. But the girl managed a pained laugh, as though nothing were happening.

“I’m fine. I’ll be back!” 

Monika watched her hobble out of the room and slowly climb the steps with muttered curses and the occasional slip. Her mismatched footsteps padded on the floor, audible through the ceiling, with a sudden booming pound. Monika jumped to her feet, chided herself for allowing the girl to try and get so far, and bounded up the stairs quick as her stunted legs allowed. 

Sayori was on the floor of the hallway, back against the wall, wiping off a stray tear, yet her face was painted with a grin and she was full of choking laughter. Monika knelt beside her. “Are you ok?” she asked.

Sayori sniffled, laughed again. “No,” she said through the fit. “No. My foot hurts. Now my back hurts too. I kind of really screwed up.”

“We should get you-”

“I can do it myself!” Sayori curtly said. She tried to climb to her feet, but Monika reached a hand out and pulled her up, and used an arm to stabilize her.

“Just let me help,” Monika said. “Honestly, you’re injured. You shouldn’t be walking around.”

“I’m fine.” Sayori blinked at Monika’s glare. “Ok, maybe I’m not…”

Monika sighed and slowly brought Sayori to her room, and lowered her onto the bed, letting her foot rest on the messy sheets.  _ No blood on the bandages. I think that’s good.  _ Sayori was laughing again, as though hearing an untold joke in the room. 

“Are you… ok?” Monika asked, more of a serious edge in her voice. 

Sayori widely shook her head, sending her unkempt short hair swinging around her, as her laughing morphed into a choking sob. The color drained from her eyes, as though melting into the tears streaking down her cheeks, and her hands crumpled the sheets between her fingers. Monika uncomfortably fidgeted. A burning desire swelled in her mind to reach out and comfort the girl, to bring her close and tell her everything was going to be alright.  _ Would she be comfortable with physical contact like that?  _

Monika inched closer, and settled on resting a hand on Sayori’s shoulder. She tensed at the feeling. Monika soldiered on. “Seriously. What’s wrong? Just one of those days?”

“It’s  _ always  _ one of those days!” Sayori muttered through snivels. “Everyday since we moved here…”

Monika drowned the urge to move even closer. Sayori was still tense, slightly pulled away from her hand, and all she could do was sit and watch the girl cry it out.  _ And listen.  _ “Always?”

“I’m so clumsy, and I break everything, and I never clean up my messes so my mom has to do it and she gets upset… Nothing can ever go right.  _ Nothing. _ ” 

Monika certainly knew the feeling. There were days always stored away at the back of her mind, where the world seemed to be collapsing on top of her. Every little problem, no matter how minor, just kept adding to it, and she’d stubbornly push on, as though everything else would finally tip in her favor. Thankfully, those days seemed to be a distant glimmer, but Sayori’s were still around. 

“I  _ know  _ they hate me…” Sayori whined. 

“What? Who?” 

“My parents. Dad never comes home anymore, and mom is always yelling or sleeping. They hate this house. And they spend so much money for my therapists and pills. I ruined everything.” Sayori’s sobbing intensified tenfold, and she collapsed into Monika’s lap, staining her shirt with a puddle of hot tears.

“That’s not true,” Monika cooed, running a soft hand over Sayori’s back, tracing meaningless shapes. “I don’t think they hate you. It’s just a new area, and you’ve only been here a short while. They’re just getting used to it, that’s all.”

Sayori laughed into her stomach. “You don’t have to lie to me. It’s ok. I know what I am.”

“You’re  _ not  _ a burden,” Monika insisted. 

Sayori didn’t reply. Monika searched her mind for words, anything comforting, or something to lighten the mood. Yet the sound of Sayori’s continued crying brought the words out before they could be mixed into something proper. 

“When people care about someone, they sometimes make sacrifices for them,” Monika said, the words trickling out. “If your parents didn’t care, then they just would’ve left you alone. They wouldn’t do anything to help you. When your mom answered the door and I asked for you, she was insistent about me leaving, because she wanted to protect you. She  _ does  _ care.”

Sayori’s tense posture slackened a tad, and she sank further down. The fierce shaking rocking her body steadied, and the crying steadily slowed. They sat there, intertwined and silent, even as the sun sank below the distant horizon and the pale moon painted shadows on the walls of the darkened room. Eventually, Sayori gave a final sniffle, and peered up at Monika. 

Moisture glistened her sky blue eyes. She pushed closer, pressing her entire body against Monika, resting the side of her head against Monika’s collarbone. “Stay here, tonight?” she muttered, barely in hearing. 

No doubt Monika had missed the bus by then. She only had one option on where to sleep, unless she was willing to make a walk across the long stretch of the city. “I’ll be here,” she replied.

At the words, Sayori jumped, her warmth suddenly pulling away and leaving cold behind. She sat at the far edge of the bed, fidgeting with her thumbs, moonlight illuminating the bright shade of red filling her face. She smiled, as she always seemed to do no matter the situation. “I meant, because it’s getting late and, uh, I didn’t want you standing out at the bus stop now,” she said, stumbling and stuttering. 

_ Shouldn’t have let here get close.  _ Monika had been caught off guard when Sayori jumped at her with tears streaming down her face. Every word, every little self deprecating statement, had left Monika wanting to embrace the girl, to tell her everything was going to be fine, and old feelings had swelled to the surface. It was wrong. Sayori was still volatile, her mood unstable, and Monika had no right to mess with that. She needed to keep her distance. Sayori didn’t need old feelings to attack her while she was recovering. 

“I can totally crash on your couch or something,” Monika casually said, trying to shift the atmosphere. 

“Yeah,” Sayori distantly said with her gaze firmly glued on the wall. “Um, I’m also still hungry, and I think I left the money Mom gave me downstairs in the kitchen. Can you find it and order something?”

“Sure,” Monika said with a smile. She climbed to her feet and strode into the hall, turning when Sayori didn’t follow. “You coming? I can help you back downstairs, so you don’t-”

“I can get down there myself!” Sayori said with a mock tone of offense. “Besides, I have something I need to do real quick. I’ll catch up.”

Monika shrugged. “‘kay.Will you be alright?”

Sayori strongly nodded, sending the small bow in her hair tumbling onto the floor. She looked down at it a moment, before sluggishly reaching for it. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Just gotta handle something.”

With that, Monika turned on her heel and made for the stairs, and then the kitchen, running her hand along the unlit walls and searching for signs of a lightswitch. After lighting the rooms, she hunted through a few of the cabinets and drawers, before finding a small pile of cash roughly set aside near a dirty and stained toaster. With the help of Google, she found a local pizza place that didn’t have completely negative reviews, and then lounged on the couch. 

Sayori padded down eventually. She seemed livelier, with brightness lighting up her eyes, and a lazy smile worn on her lips, as though a breakdown never happened. She was still carefully limping around, grimacing on the occasion her wrapped foot touched the ground. She crashed on a leather recliner. “It’s so quiet down here,” she observed.

“I like the quiet,” Monika said. The increasing exhaustion filling her eyes had sent more pain jolting through her head. Even the act of talking brought it up a pinch. 

“I don’t.” Sayori fumbled around for a remote buried in the cushions of the chair, and switched  on the rather large sized TV lined along the wall. It blinked to life with a manufacturer's logo, then showed a menu of different programs.  _ Way too fancy of a TV for my tastes.  _ “Wanna watch something while we wait for food?” Sayori asked.

“I suppose,” Monika said, kicking her feet up on the coffee table and settling in. She hadn’t watched many movies since being released from the hospital. Most of her offtime had been spent with Fayce, who was always eager to explore, or reading collections of poetry or older books. 

Sayori browsed through apps Monika didn’t recognize, before settling on a title and letting it play. A comedy, of some sort. Many of the scenes sent Sayori into a bubbling fit of laughter, turning her face a shade of crimson as she fought for breath, and Monika couldn’t help but to laugh alongside her. Even after food had arrived, the movie continued, and Sayori at least seemed happy.

Sayori’s mood swings struck Monika. She’d been lazy, relaxed, and happy at the start of the day, from when Monika had arrived on her doorstep, and throughout a brief session of tea and catch up. It seemed to make sense that her mood would be dented after breaking a plate and slicing her foot open, but the sheer distance of that swing had been astounding. Talk of being useless, of people hating her. Monika’s depression hadn’t been like that. Now, she was in an alien environment, wondering what the different triggers for horror were and trying to sidestep them as best she could. 

At least the movie kept things from getting bad. 

Once the credits were rolling, Sayori had curled up on the chair and fallen asleep, her wrapped foot set up on reclining pedestal at the edge. She snored softly, her arms wrapped around a big cotton pillow, and Monika was careful to not make noise as she cleaned up and turned the fancy TV off. The house was completely silent, and as Monika sprawled back out on the soft couch with a thin blanket over her, exhaustion crept up on her, sapping her drained will to keep her eyes open. 


	11. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entry brought to you by procrastination! Tired of doing work? Exhausted because of school? Then just ignore it and do something else!
> 
> Also I have a horrible flu right now and I'm confident that it ruined my proofreading.

The morning’s pale light streamed directly into Monika’s tired eyes. For a moment, she completely forgot where she was. She’d usually either wake in her own room or in some place Fayce would find in the city’s dozens of wooded parks or abandoned, crumbling buildings. The scent of lavender threw her off right away, along with the crazy large TV mounted to the wall, and the leather of the couch under her. It wasn’t until she heard cheerful, disjointed humming that she remembered.

Sayori was in the kitchen, most of her weight put on her good foot. She was rummaging through drawers and fiddling with a shiny, new-ish coffee machine. Her hair was ruffled and bedraggled, with strands popping up all over the place, shaking around alongside her spasmodic movements. 

“Morning,” Monika said, her voice raw and still full of sleep. Sayori jumped, almost dropping a mug in the process, but whirled around, her face painted with a wide grin. 

“Morning!” she said in a bright tone. “Breakfast? I’m not the best at cooking, but I’ve been told I can make great pancakes!” 

“Sure,” Monika said with a shrug. Sayori went back to her routine, fiddling with the coffee machine and pulling varied ingredients out of cabinets. Monika just sat and watched. 

_ Aren’t I forgetting to do something today?  _ Monika swept her mind. The feeling was there, the vestige of  _ forgetting,  _ but she could find no recollection of promised plans. She’d bailed on Natuski yesterday, yet hadn’t made new plans with her. Other than that…

Her phone vibrated. Fayce had sent a text.  _ Oh. Uh oh.  _

 

**_Fayce, 10:22AM:_ ** _ where r u _

**_Fayce, 10:22AM:_ ** _ cause im at your house and noones home _

 

Monika let out a sigh. Fayce intending on going into the city today, to do some last minute Christmas shopping, and Monika had agreed to tag along. She hadn’t meant to spend the night at Sayori’s. It’d been a spontaneous thing, urged on by the girl’s rather abrupt rough breakdown, leaving Monika unwilling to abandon her for the night. In the chaos, she’d completely forgotten about these plans. Monika unlocked her phone and hastily wrote out a reply.

 

**_Monika, 10:24AM:_ ** _ I’m not home. I’m at Sayori’s. Kind of a sudden thing, but I stayed the night here. Sorry :( _

**_Fayce, 10:25AM:_ ** _ oh but im not going shopping alone. I dont care where u r ur comin with me _

**_Monika, 10:26AM:_ ** _ We can just go tomorrow or something. It’s a long drive. _

**_Fayce, 10:26AM:_ ** _ no im going today and ur coming with. Youd better be rdy when i get there _

 

Monika blinked at her phone screen. It was certainly a lot of trouble just to get her along, especially since it was an hour’s drive to Sayori’s, leaving Fayce with at least two hours spent in the car. Monika had certainly been looking forward to the trip, though; Fayce had been promising to buy her new clothes, and she’d intended to use today’s trip to cash in on that.  _ Where does she even get the money for all of this?  _

Sayori was busying herself in the kitchen. Monika had no clue how to make pancakes, but the method Sayori was using seemed a bit hazardous. She was flipping them the same way one would see on TV, a way that often ended badly as a punchline, but she seemed to have a decent grasp of it. She’d grip the pan tightly, then throw a flattened cake into the air, watch it flip, and aim the pan under it, then repeat as needed. 

_ Perhaps… _

Sayori had been talking of a lack of friends. She’d also spent so much time cooped up in her house, isolated away from the world. Perhaps at some point that sort of thing was healthy, but Monika knew that after a while it got frustrating. In the hospital, she’d clamored for some kind of interaction with anyone but her therapist and the doctors, but sadly her mental state had held her back. Sayori had to be feeling the same way. At least, her late night texts had been alluding to it. 

Fayce seemed a natural at teasing people out of their shells. She was popular amongst the entire school, known for making friends with just about anyone. Somehow, she’d dug deep under Theresa’s stone cover and found the warm earth beneath, which was certainly an accomplishment. Monika wondered if there was even a tiny chance of her two best friends to get along. 

Perhaps it was time to find out.

Sayori had finished the stunning show of early morning cooking without burning or injuring herself, to Monika’s equal surprise and relief. She slid a plate of golden pancakes and buttered toast onto the counter, and watched Monika rather intently as she took the first bite. She’d never really enjoyed the delight of pancakes in the morning, usually content with a quick bowl of cereal or some bland tasting poptarts, and was an awful judge of taste as a result, but she found herself quickly devouring the small stack in front of her. Sayori hadn’t been wrong. She certainly was able to cook a decent breakfast. 

Sayori held her chin in her hand, just staring, a sort of lazy smile drawn on her lips. There was something to her look, about the way her eyes were tightly locked onto Monika’s, the way she was leaned in close…  _ Stupid thoughts. I’m reading far too much into this.  _ Monika snapped herself back to reality and grinned. “So these are really good.”

“Yeah?” Sayori brightened. “I’m awful at anything but pancakes and toast. I guess I have mom to thank for that.”

Monika’s breakfast was practically breathed down. Before long, nothing remained but trace crumbs of toast and streaks of gooey syrup. Sayori still hadn’t really budged. She sat thoughtfully, her gaze passing to the back window, her eyes murky and unfocused. Monika had to snap a finger in front of her to bring her attention back. 

“Sorry,” Sayori mumbled. Her face briefly turned a rather adorable shade of crimson before she turned away and righted herself. 

“Are you gonna eat?” Monika asked. 

“What?” Sayori blinked, as though forgetting where she was, but was interrupted by a roaring gurgle from her stomach. She laughed. “Probably. I just wanted you to taste the food first, in case I screwed up or something.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t. It tastes fine.” Monika set aside her plate. “But you need to eat.”

“Don’t need to tell me that!” Sayori laughed. She turned and busied herself in the kitchen, fishing out a plate and fork for herself and stacking food on the ceramic. Monika cautiously observed. She was leaning on her good foot still, and her walk was arrhythmic with a slight limp, and she was balancing everything in one hand, leaving a single mistake capable of ruining the entire morning. Mercifully, Sayori emerged from the kitchen and took a seat. 

“So,” Monika started as Sayori began picking at her food, “I was wondering something.”

“Yeah?” Sayori said with a mouthful of food.

“I promised Fayce that I’d go shopping with her today. Last minute thing, for Christmas. She’s kinda on her way now…” Sayori’s expression dropped, her gaze lowered to the table, and her merciless pace of devouring food was slowed to a crawl. Monika continued, “I was wondering if you wanted to tag along with us, maybe?”

“Maybe?” Sayori set her fork down and twirled a short strand of messy hair in her finger, wearing a pensive look on her face. “I haven’t been out of the house in a while. I mean, I mostly go with my mom to the grocery or something, but… where are we going, exactly?”

“Downtown, if I know Fayce,” Monika replied with a shrug. At Sayori’s sudden flinch, Monika added, “You don’t have to go. It was just a suggestion.”

“No-!” Sayori swiftly snapped. “I’ll go! I really should get out more, shouldn’t I? So I’ll go.” Her eyes fiercely bubbled with determination. “Plus, maybe I should get to know your friends?”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“I don’t know?” Sayori blinked. “Fayce followed Theresa a lot, right? Especially before… before…” Her expression flattened, and her eyes blurred, but only for the briefest of moments. “But she has to be nice, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t be friends with her.”

“Yeah,” Monika replied. “She’s nice. She’s still friends with Theresa, but she has her reasons, I suppose.” Monika chose not to divulge anymore than that. Fayce had trusted her with those reasons, and she wasn’t one to betray such trust so willingly. Especially since it ignited something within her.  _ Hope.  _

There was no question of what had been building inside her over the past few weeks. The regular interactions with Fayce, the intimate closeness, the way she could so easily let her guard down and talk with Fayce, it all added up a single thing. There was hope for it, at least. Fayce seemed to lack interest in men, if her absence of a dating life hinted at anything. Then there was the way she spoke of Theresa. There was a kind of passion in that, something Monika easily understood, because she’d also once had the same fiery passion for someone else. 

“Uh,” Sayori cleared her throat. “I’m not intruding too much if I ask whether or not you and Fayce are, um,  _ close _ , am I?”

“We’re just friends,” Monika truthfully replied. For all their interactions, neither had made any sort of move.  _ Yet.  _

“You sure?” Sayori grinned. “Because you sorta got a weird look when I mentioned her.”

“Did I?” Monika tilted her head. “Maybe I just drifted off. I have a tendency to do that, I guess.”

“Drifted off?” Sayori’s smile turned sly. “You have a crush!” She bawled with laughter. Her fork dropped to the plate with a shrill scrape. 

“What’s so funny?” Monika asked. 

It took a few seconds for Sayori to recompose herself. She cleared her throat, rubbed an eye, and giggled some more. “I don’t know,” she said, the laughed again. Monika, for all her confusion, started to laugh with her. It was contagious, like a single yawn that sent the entire room into a storm of yawns. They remained like that for a few passing minutes, just laughing like they would when they were kids and someone cracked a witty joke, or when they secretly watched an adult-rated comedy back in middle school. 

“But seriously,” Sayori said through shallow breaths, “you like her, don’t you? It’s so plain~!” For just a single passing second, Monika swore she saw a darkening in her bright eyes, a crack in her expression. Just as quickly as it came, it passed. 

“Maybe I do,” Monika admitted in a hushed voice as though someone were around to hear. 

“That’s actually great,” Sayori said. “It’s good to see you moving on.”

“What do you mean?”

Sayori pushed her plate aside and energetically rapped her fingers on the tablecloth. “I just mean that… Um, ok, I’m bad at this.” Her face turned a different shade. The raping of her fingers intensified. “You should just forget about whatever feelings you had for me. Honest. And it’s good to see that you are!”

Monika was taken aback. Of course, there  _ were  _ still those feelings swirling around somewhere in the back of her mind, but she hadn’t intended to even bring them up for quite some time. Even when she did finally talk about them, it would only have been to clear the air, to vent about things long passed, because she knew there likely wasn’t any potential for something to develop with Sayori. At least, not for a very long time, until the both of them had fully recovered. 

“Sayori-” 

“Don’t say anything,” Sayori interrupted, all her motion freezing. Her expression broke. She dropped her gaze to the table. “I just don’t want to dwell, that’s all. I don’t want  _ you  _ to dwell. We have to move on, right?”

“That’s not what-”

“I don’t know if I ever had the same feelings,” Sayori continued, ignoring the interruption. “Maybe I did, and hearing your confession just… or maybe I didn’t. I don’t know how any of this works.”

“Sayori, please-”

“But when we do finally move on, we can remain friends. Just friends! And you should just pursue other people, someone who will be good for you.” Sayori sniffled. “That’ll be fine.”

“Sayori!” Monika flinched at her own raised tone. “Please, just let me speak.”

Sayori didn’t look up, but she did linger in silence. Monika took it as a cue. She took a deep breath. “I’ll never be able to bury those feelings. Or get rid of them. They’ll always be there because I’ll always remember you and how close we were. I won’t pursue them if you don’t want me to, and we can certainly just be friends if you want, but you can’t tell me to just forget.”

She’d forgotten a lot. So much of her memory had returned, but there was still a giant chunk of her life still locked away behind a safe she could never crack. But she wasn’t going to willingly stuff anything else into that safe, especially not Sayori or the memories of a childhood spent together.

Sayori looked up. Their eyes met. There was no light in Sayori’s murky gaze, none of the brightness from before. The mood changes were certainly jarring, but Monika supposed this one was called for. Whether Sayori knew it or not, it was obvious there was  _ something  _ there, denied feelings she wasn’t facing. Monika couldn’t force her to face them. That was something she’d have to do on her own. 

Monika wondered how Sayori would feel if Monika weren’t a girl. Then the feelings wouldn’t have to be buried because they’d be seen as normal, and perhaps there could’ve been a spark between them that wasn’t infected with the foul undertones of what counted as normalcy. She’d had such thoughts before. They were just as pointless now as they were then. Whatever the world may have thought,  _ something  _ had developed. Something Monika could never forget, could never wash away. 

“Well,” Sayori suddenly said, “now that  _ that’s  _ out of the way, I think I need to shower. That’s usually what people do before going on shopping trips or whatever, right?”

“I guess?” Monika blinked.  _ Jarring little mood changes.  _ The light had returned as Sayori pushed out of her chair and entered a half limp away from the table, leaning into her good foot.

“Are you sure you want to come? Because you can barely walk straight,” Monika called after her as she was in the hallway. 

“I’ll be fine!” Sayori called back, climbing the stairs as slowly as Monika would. 

Monika fiddled with her phone again. 

 

**_Monika, 10:40AM:_ ** _ Sayori’s coming along. _

**_Fayce, 10:46AM:_ ** _ srry im driving. She can come i guess.  _

**_Monika, 10:47AM:_ ** _ You sure? Because it’s totally fine if you just wanted to go with me. _

**_Fayce, 10:55AM:_ ** _ its fine. I want to meet her anyway _

 

Monika busied herself with washing off breakfast’s plates and cleaning up the kitchen. Sayori certainly knew how to make a mess. White flour covered the counter around the stovetop, some crusted onto the steel of the stove, and Monika had to put serious effort into getting it off. Stray globs of syrup had somehow found their way into random places, even on a  _ wall,  _ and Monika puzzledly washed it with a wet rag. Sometime during the chore, she heard the house’s water heater groan to life and a shower switch on upstairs. 

Monika seated herself on the couch afterward, relaxing into the silence. She wondered when Sayori’s parents would come home. She said they were away for a business trip, something that was usual from what Monika could tell, but it seemed risky to leave someone with a history of suicidal behavior alone for a few days. She wondered just how much Sayori’s parents had paid attention in those few months after the confession. They’d never really been the attentive sort from what Monika could remember, especially considering how often Sayori could sneak away from home with few consequences, or could make trouble at school with a prank and get away without even a single scolding word. 

As the water turned off from upstairs, Monika briefly wondered if she needed to shower too. She’d slept in her clothes, after all. Her hair wasn’t at its best, and cleaning the kitchen had somehow scattered flour stains and syrup up her arms. 

Sayori climbed down the stairs a few moments afterward. Her messy hair had been tamed a slight bit, with her trademark ribbon tucked into place to keep any bangs from falling over her eyes. Though she was still in a thick oversized shirt and stained jeans, she still managed to look a hint more formal than with her usual lazy style, or lack thereof. 

“So, when’s Fayce supposed to get here?” she asked as she crashed on the recliner. 

Monika shrugged. “Maybe fifteen more minutes? It’s nearly been an hour from when she first texted me…” She pulled out her phone and checked the time.  _ 11:15.  _ She looked back at Sayori. “Can I use your shower real quick?”

“Sure,” Sayori replied. 

Monika found her way up the stairs and into the somewhat small bathroom. The floor in front of the shower was a bit damp, and water had been puddled along the tiles at the foot of the mirror. Stray bottles of makeup and a hairdryer had been tossed into disorderly piles around the sink. A box of gauze, nearly empty, was lying on the floor. Monika chuckled at the haphazard touch Sayori had on her surroundings. 

She showered under warm water, scrubbed her skin with the unfamiliar scent of a new soap, and shampooed her hair with a rich lavender smell. Sayori, or at least her parents, seemed to have a fondness for lavender. Monika used the same scent for her detergent, and had to admit that it was quickly growing on her. As she was finishing up, she heard stirring downstairs, alongside Sayori’s raised voice and laughter, punctuated by another familiar voice, one that sparked memories of mismatched colors. 

After getting dressed in the same casual clothes she’d worn the day before, she spent an eternity fiddling with her hair. Even after so many weeks, it never seemed to cooperate. The ribbon helped at least. It was far larger than Sayori’s small bow, and she could use it to tie her hair back into a loose tail, but her bangs just loved to put up a fight. Unsatisfied but tiring of the frustration, Monika trailed down the stairs and saw Fayce’s fancy car parked in front of the house.

The girl in question was seated in the living room, next to a bubbling Sayori. Neither seemed to notice as Monika walked in. Fayce was talking about something, an ardent tale of her misdeeds against a teacher at school, and Sayori was bursting with laughter, red faced and squirming around the couch. 

Monika politely waited for the story to finish. Once it was, Sayori looked over and found her. “About time!” she chided. 

Fayce looked over, and her smile intensified. She climbed out of the couch and wrapped Monika in a tight, warm hug. It was something she’d been doing, at least lately. It hadn’t been something she’d done with her other friends, from what Monika had observed at least. Monika welcomed them anyway, even if they did make her blush and leave her fidgety. 

Sayori had looked away. She was bouncing her foot off the floor, the injured one. 

Fayce pulled back. “I was just talking with Sayori here,” she said. “She’s really nice~! I can see why the two of you are friends.”

Sayori looked back over with a smirk. “I guess you’re nice too,” she said. 

“Good,” Monika said. “Happy to see no one’s strangling each other.”

“Yet,” Fayce said in a voice laced with sarcasm. She turned back to Sayori. “Anyway, shall we be off?”

Sayori climbed off the chair, averse to putting weight on her bad foot. The bulk of the bandages showed beneath her sneakers. “Sure,” she said. 

Monika agreed, and they made their way out the door and into Fayce’s car, Monika in the passenger seat and Sayori in the middle back seat, leaning over the center console as best as her tight seatbelt allowed. Snow was falling in soft flakes. Plenty of it had already been piled onto the ground over the last week, glistening in the afternoon sun. 

The ride was silent. Monika had connected her phone to the stereo, as usual, and soft guitars filled the air. She watched the world go by out the window. Her eyes droned over the guardrails and trees that crowded the edge of the highway, or examined the dozens of other cars driving alongside them. The desire to learn how to drive had been growing in her lately. Relying on the bus or Fayce to get to places was growing tiresome. Her dad still had that car in the garage, a car that worked as Monika found out one late, curious night. 

The city grew in the distance. The wide skyline was harshly reflecting the angled sun, but she could still make out the lining of familiar buildings and towers. Traffic thickened the close they got, and Fayce was puffing out sighs of frustrating, earning rising giggling from Sayori. 

“Maybe Yuri had the right idea,” Monika idely said. The city was always a breathtaking sight, an urban heaven showcasing the extents of engineering and always bustling with a dense hive of hundreds of people. Yet just getting anywhere was an experience in itself. 

“I wouldn’t trade the crowd for anything,” Fayce said. “The traffic on the other hand…”

Sayori was intently gazing out the window, not watching the bustle of honking cars around them but the city’s lofty line of towers above. Her eyes were widened, almost like a child walking through a candy store. “Has it been that long since you’ve been here?” Monika asked.

Sayori didn’t snap from her reverie. She continued staring. Monika found herself giving an endearing little grin. Whatever sadness had seeped into her earlier had been swept away, replaced with wonderment and curiosity, and Monika was finding it adorable. 

Fayce eventually got them into the city and pulled into the first parking lot that came in sight. After spending another five annoying minutes hunting for an empty spot, Fayce pulled the keys from the car and the three of them climbed out into the winter chill. 

Everyone outside was bundled in heavy coats and sweaters. The wind breezed by, carrying a harsh bite alongside increasingly heavier flakes of snow. All around the sidewalks were crowded end to end, and the roads were full of stunted cars impatiently fighting to get ahead. The air was permeated with that familiar city stench; the rancid scent of burning cigarettes, the puff of car exhaust, the smoke from a hundred chimneys side by side. The murmur of the crowd forced Monika to walk close to the other two to hear them. 

“So where are we going?” Monika asked as Fayce took point.

“A mall,” she replied. “It’s a bit of a walk, but it’ll be faster than driving.”

Monika looked to see Sayori bunched up right against her side, almost shrinking away from the surrounding throng, though she flashed endless passerbys with a bright, uplifting smile. Her partial limp was improving, leaving Monika the truly stunted one, struggling alongside them with her cane and resistant legs. Fayce’s pace was slow, at least, as it always was when Monika was around. 

They spent the better part of half an hour wandering down sidewalks, Monika unsure if Fayce knew where she was, in spite of the constant reassuring and insistence. After a while, the girl pulled out her phone and veered off to the side, and Monika took a moment to rest her quickly exhausting legs. 

“I swear I knew where it was,” Fayce said. Spending a moment on her phone, she eventually nodded to herself and stuffed it back into her pocket, and took the lead again, guiding them back down a road they’d just taken.

When they finally found the place, Monika fully understood just how Fayce had missed it. It was a sizable building, packed with billboards advertising a collection of different stores and restaurants, but it easily blended in with the surrounding towers and plazas. If one didn’t examine closely, they’d simply assume it was an apartment building if the rows of windows above were any indication. 

It was rather crowded for a place easy to miss, though. People swelled into the walkways, leaving little room to maneuver, and crunching Monika against her companions. Fayce continued to lead, a specific direction obviously in mind as she brought them up a set of stairs and past a dozen different brightly lit stores.

The first destination was a clothing store. Monika and Sayori stuck off to the side as the girl did her shopping. They’d nearly covered the entire store’s floor by the time Fayce was content with her picks, and back out into the chaos they went, into electronic stores and shoe stores and various department stores. 

Sayori was glued to Monika the entire time. Though she didn’t exactly seem nervous, there was a hint of something behind her stare as she watched pedestrians pass by. Monika noted the collapse of her expression once she spied a married couple pass, and a strange look aimed at Monika, then to Fayce. It almost seemed like she wanted to say something, but she kept her thoughts to herself. 

“I didn’t expect to be here this long,” Fayce said as they entered yet another store. She’d offloaded her bags into a cart, and hadn’t even had the courtesy to ask when she had Monika push it around. At least it gave a bit more support than her cane. 

“It’s fine,” Monika dismissed. “Better here than stuck at home.”

Sayori was lagging a bit behind now. Her posture had fallen, and her eyes were blearily peering around, and she’d jump at any sudden sounds. Fayce didn’t seem to notice as she rummaged through lines of clothes or other merchandise. “Everything ok?” Monika asked. 

Sayori looked at her with an unchanging expression. “I think so,” she replied flatly.

“You think so?”

She shrugged. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve been away from home for this long.”

They used to spend most of their time away from their homes. They’d trek through thick woods, through long, winding paths alongside rivers and outside the city’s limits, and explore the city’s vast rural side, and Monika had always been the first to grow tired. Sayori would always push on, testing just how far they could get before Monika would keel over and surrender, and then tease her about it all the way home. Monika wondered if that girl might still be underneath that new shell. 

“You kinda get used to it with Fayce,” Monika said. “She’s not one to stay put. Like you used to be, I guess.”

Sayori fiddled with her hair. “It’s stupid I’m getting tired now. I’ve been wanting to go out for a while, and now that I’m here, I just want to go home.”

“Did someone mention home?” Fayce piped up. She closed the distance between them. “Because if I’m keeping you here too long…”

“No!” Sayori suddenly said, a bit loud. “I’ll be fine. Maybe some food or something will help?”

Monika’s stomach agreed. They’d skipped lunch, and she hadn’t even noticed the hours going by until the windows gave way to a darkening sky. Fayce’s expression certainly gave away a sympathetic feeling. 

“Alright,” Fayce said. “I know a good place. C’mon.”

“You always know a good place,” Monika said, following Fayce as they ventured to the checkout counter. As she was unloading goods and the clerk scanned each one, Monika watched in astonishment as the total kept rising well beyond a certain comfort zone. “Where do you get all this money anyways?”

Fayce shrugged. “I sell drugs sometimes.”

“Huh?”

“Drugs. Y’know, the illegal kind? Like the brown sugar. The China white. Hell dust. Junk. Just plain dope, most of the time.”

A moment passed, Monika staring and blinking in confusion, ears focused on the beeping of the ringer and praying the clerk didn’t hear. Eventually Fayce broke into a fit of laughter. “You totally believed me!”

“What?” Monika crossed her arms. “No I didn’t!”

“You sure looked like it,” Fayce laughed. “I spent like an hour on the internet hoping I could use that joke one day.” She cleared her throat. “Honestly, it’s just my parents. Foster parents, I mean. I guess they don’t really know how to handle having a teenage girl sometimes, and they’re super rich, so they’ll give me a ludicrous allowance and call it parenting.”

“Oh,” Monika said. 

“Yeah.” Fayce scratched the back of her neck. “I honestly don’t spend a lot of money. Theresa’s family is richer, so she usually got the bills, so it wasn’t until I started hanging with you that I really got into that account.” After a brief second, her mismatched eyes widened. “Oh jeez, what an awful phrase. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Monika said with a wave of a hand. “You don’t actually have to spend so much money on me, though.” They’d spent so much time in fancy restaurants with crazy menus, but Monika had never really taken notice of the prices on things, or paid much attention to the fact that Fayce’d been spending so much money. She’d questioned it sometimes, but usually didn’t dwell. 

“Please, it’s barely a drop in the puddle,” Fayce giggled. “I like to treat my friends, anyways.”

After paying, Fayce led them to the food court. Thankfully the crowds were dwindling as the hours went by, and the traffic outside seemed to be thinning and running by slightly quicker. Fayce brought them to a cheap, greasy looking place with a few bored looking employees, styled with a Japanese aesthetic, and Monika was questioning the choice up until she took the first bite of her chicken teriyaki. It tasted a bit like something one would find in a quality restaurant, only the entire store screamed ‘fast food.’ Sayori seemed to have a similar reaction when she downed a forkful of her own order.

“So,” Sayori began before even swallowing, “how much time do you spend in the city that you know where all the good places are?”

Fayce rapped her fingers on the table, waiting for her food to cool. “A few friends and I come out here often. Theresa, mostly, though I’ve been dragging Monika along a lot lately.”

“I don’t mind,” Monika said. In truth, spending time with Fayce had been the most quality time she could find. It was either that or school or isolation in her room, constantly smelling that faint hint of alcohol permeating the air. The choice had become easy, and the company wasn’t exactly the worst. 

Sayori was slower with her next bite. “Theresa?” she asked under her breath. “You’re friends with her still?”

Fayce shrugged. “We’ve been moving apart recently, but yeah, I’d consider her a friend.” She picked at her food a bit, then sighed. “I know the two of you haven’t exactly seen her at her best recently, but she can be a good friend.”

“I know,” Sayori said. She was tapping her injured foot on the tile floor. “Her ugly side can just be…”

“Yeah,” Fayce said in a hushed tone. “I know.”

A silent minute passed. Sayori began to say something, then stopped, earning some attention, and she forced herself to continue. “I don’t really know if it’s a good thing to say, but I miss Theresa.”

“It’s natural to miss old friends,” Monika said. “Her nice side could always be rather… endearing.” 

Fayce tapped her plastic fork on her tray. “I wish I saw more of it these days.”

Sayori looked as though she wanted to say more, but decided against it. They all quietly finished their food, the mood a bit spoiled now, but Fayce was quick to save the day. She pushed aside her tray and smiled. 

“Well, I figure I’m all done with my shopping for today,” she beamed, as though it was some sort of accomplishment. 

Monika pulled her phone from her pocket and flinched at the time.  _ 7:30PM.  _ It seemed time had begun ticking faster since they’d arrived. “Then I suppose we should be heading back,” she said.

Fayce shrugged. “Unless either of you want anything, sure.”

“I don’t have the money,” Sayori said. 

“I do,” Fayce said with a grin. 

Sayori wildly shook her head, completely undoing what little remained of her neatly brushed hair from that morning. “I couldn’t,” she said. “It’s your money.”

“Please. Consider it a Christmas gift, or whatever you celebrate.”

Sayori tilted her head. “Do you always buy gifts for people you just met?”

Fayce winked. “Only the pretty ones.”

Sayori blinked. A few seconds passed before color began to fill her cheeks and she averted her eyes to everywhere but Fayce. Fayce softly laughed. Something in Sayori’s widening eyes betrayed her though, a crack in the glint of the color giving way to something buried within. Fayce seemed not to notice. Sayori was bouncing her injured foot even harder. 

“Um,” Monika spoke up, bringing attention away from Sayori. “There might be a few things I wanted to look at, it it’s no trouble.”

“I’ve dragged you along for hours to just watch  _ me  _ shop,” Fayce said. “I’ll be fine with whatever trouble comes from returning the favor.”

So after finishing what remained of their food, the three of them set out again. The thinning crowds made it easier to navigate across the raised walkways and browse through the stores. Monika would list off what she was looking for, and Fayce would bring them to a store she found suitable for the need, a cycle that repeated itself for another hour. 

Sayori straggled behind. Fayce had encouraged her to shop around, but she’d declined each offer. The usual quips or jokes from before had been drained away. She mostly just seemed tired. The half-limp that she’d worn throughout the day had faded, and if anything she was emphasizing putting weight on the injured foot as they wandered through the mall. Monika’s attempts at bringing any humor back or lifting spirits were all ill-fated. 

So Monika rushed the rest of her shopping, and eventually decided to cut it short. They walked in silence back out into the frigid winter air, and made the long trek back to the parking garage though a sheet of snow carried by the bitter winds. The city’s lights turned the clouds above bright as they’d be in the morning, while the pale moon hung off in the horizon. 

“So,” Fayce said as they climbed back into her car. “I figured that the drive back is a little long, so maybe we could cut it short?”

“How?” Monika asked.

Fayce adjusted the rear view mirror, making Sayori visible in the back seat. She was leaning against the door, face against the glass, her eyes lidded and heavy. “Sayori,” Fayce said, bringing the girl’s attention back to the earth. “Since it’s so late, I was thinking we could all just crash at your place for the night? It’s kind of a long ride home now, and I don’t like driving tired…”

Monika hadn’t even given thought to the fact that Sayori coming along would drag out the return trip. She’d just been so excited to get Sayori out of the house and back into the world. Looking back at her now, Monika was unsure if it was the best decision. 

Sayori flicked her head over. “I don’t see why you couldn’t,” she said in a flat voice. 

“You sure?” Fayce turned to look at her directly. “Because you seemed kinda… off. If you want space, I can totally just drop you off and drive Monika home.”

“It’s fine,” Sayori insisted. “I’m just really tired, that’s all.”

Fayce seemed unsure. She turned back around but watched Sayori from the mirror with concern. “Is this ok with you, Mon?” she asked, not moving her gaze. 

“So long as I don’t have to go home,” Monika found herself mumbling. She’d said it low and quiet, but it seemed both of them had heard. Sayori was leaning over the center console now, though her posture was a bit slack, and Fayce turned away from the mirror. 

“Everything ok?” Sayori asked, voice laced with worry. Odd that Sayori was the one asking Monika that question.

Monika fished for words. The statement had come pouring out, almost like her mind had made a decision without her consent. She hadn’t really thought of a follow up. “Just a lot of memories buried there,” Monika replied, turning toward the window. Fayce had driven them out onto the road now, and they were following the steady moving flow of traffic out onto the freeway. “I just don’t like being there much.”

“And your dad?” Sayori asked.

“He’s part of it,” Monika replied. She rapped her fingers on the armrest. “He’s always drunk, or in the process of getting drunk. He doesn’t really do anything beyond work and drink, and it’s kinda driving me up a wall.” 

“He’s still drinking so much?” Sayori sighed. “But he’s not like your mom, right?”

Fayce’s ears twitched. “What was your mom like?” 

“She never told you?” Sayori’s stare drifted between Fayce and Monika. 

“No,” Monika answered. “I mean, she was… abusive, I guess. What else is there to say?” Being home only intensified the old feelings. Her mother’s strict hand often looked for any excuse to swipe Monika’s face, or her mother would hunt for any reason to punish her for some perceived slight. At first, it had never been around Sayori or Theresa, not until years down the line when she was starting to suspect the truth of Monika’s darkest secret. Then it became public. 

“Abusive?” Fayce blinked. 

“She was…” Monika stopped. She let silence hang in the air for a bit. Sayori and Fayce said nothing, and only waited with restraint for her to continue. “She’s dead,” Monika finally mumbled. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Well, maybe not,” Fayce said. “But is your dad like that? Because if he is, I-”

“He’s not,” Monika interrupted. “He just drinks and works and ignores me.”

“Oh.” Sayori leaned back into her seat. 

Fayce’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “As long as it’s not the worst case scenario…” She sighed. “I’m starting to see why you’re always out with me.”

“Always?” Sayori perked up. 

“Not  _ always, _ ” Monika retorted, earning a condescending giggle from the driver. 

“Most of the time,” Fayce said. “Not that I mind, of course. Nothing exciting in my home life, so I’m happy to get out as often as possible. At least now I have a proper reason to be out.” She glanced over at Monika with a small grin. “And the company’s not that bad either.”

Sayori sighed in the backseat. There was a contemplative tint in her eyes as she stared blankly ahead. She didn’t say anything, though. Silence reigned for the rest of the ride. Monika peered out the window, lazily watching the world pass by. Her eyes were growing heavier with each passing minute, and she was nearly asleep by the time the car pulled into Sayori’s steep driveway. Cane in hand, she climbed out and followed the other two into the house. 

Almost as soon as she was seated on the couch, Monika found herself drifting. Fayce plopped beside her, a little  _ too  _ awake for the late hour. “I really wore the two of you down today, didn’t I?”

Monika suppressed a threatening yawn. “It’s no biggie,” she said, waving it off. Only her waving hand became a pillow as she leaned into the soft leather cushions. 

“Yeah,” Sayori said from the hall. “I think I’m gonna head up and grab some sleep.” She was speaking in a flat tone, drained of any energy that it had contained from the morning. “I had fun. Goodnight guys.”

“Goodnight,” Fayce said. Monika’s response came out as a muffled murmur. Her blearly mind faded into a light slumber, and sometime later her tightly shut eyes registered the light being shut off and a soft blanket being gently wrapped around her, and the creaking of the recliner being pulled up. Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, but she was far too exhausted to deal with it. 

“So,” Fayce said quietly, just loud enough for Monika to hear, “she’s nice.”

Monka grunted in agreement. 

“A bit… unstable, though?” Fayce went silent for a beat. “Jeez, that sounded horrible. I meant, she’s kinda… I don’t know how to put this…”

“I know,” Monika said, slightly opening a single eye. Fayce was nervously twiddling her thumbs. 

“She’s a bit like you, I think.”

“In what way?”

“Well,” Fayce cleared her throat. “She gets distant too, like she’s lost in her own thoughts. Like her brain consumed her or something. Only she’s far easier to pull back then you are. That mood change though…” Fayce took a shaky breath. “Did I maybe do something wrong?”

Monika shook her head as best she could manage. “No,” she replied. “At least, nothing stood out to me.”

Fayce looked at the carpeted floor. “I shouldn’t have made that comment, should I?”

“Comment?”

“Calling her pretty.” Fayce sighed again. “I know you said she has trouble with… um… but the comment just sort of came to me. I thought it might’ve lifted her spirits or something.” She veered off for a moment. “Plus, she  _ is  _ really pretty.”

“She is,” Monika agreed. “But she was getting exhausted even before that.”

“Yeah.” Fayce yawned. “Well, I guess I just need to spend more time figuring her out.”

Monika hummed. Fayce stretched out across the chair, leaning into it and wrapping a blanket around herself. She said a brief “goodnight” and Monika’s eyes were tightly closed again, bringing her into a light slumber.

She dreamt. She hadn’t dreamt much lately, but that night brought her back to that familiar classroom surrounded by a winding school of neverending halls. Most of her dreams were at home, surrounded by locked memories that haunted her in a familiar classroom. Why was it that she could forget everything else, but that stupid classroom always stained her mind? She wanted to burn it down. The monstrous dream version of Sayori had been absent the last few sessions, ever since she reconnected with the girl in reality, but that eldritch thing with its writhing tendrils and twisted screams still stalked the halls, endlessly hunting for her, calling out for her in a raspy, sickly tone, and she was forced to run and hide, praying she woke up this time, that she wasn’t going to be trapped again. 

The floor was always as thin as a morning cloud, ready to open up and swallow her at any moment. The desks were made of wood and steel but had the weight of feathers and texture of pudding. The air was as frigid as December winds could get. She could never break the windows, no matter how many times she slammed a desk or chair against them. She would bloody her fists against the hard, stone-like glass, but it wouldn’t even dent or crack. Noise only attracted the creature anyways. Most of her time was spent huddling in a closet or stray classroom, doors closed and locked and her shallow breathing muffled. It always knew where she was, though. She’d hear its heavy footsteps outside, hear it pound at the door, hear it rip into the hinges and the scream of metal as the frame gave way and the door was pulled off and tossed aside. She’d watch the creature reach out for her. 

Then she’d wake up.

Her breath was caught in her throat as she nearly jumped from the couch. She took a frantic look around, orienting herself with where she was, silently reminding herself that she was safe, that monsters weren’t real, until her breathing steadied and the uncontrollable shaking and shivering in her limbs subsided and settled. A clock was softly ticking away on the far wall, and the winter winds howled through the back window. It was still night outside, a few hours past midnight if the clock was correct. Fayce was passed out on the chair, blissfully unaware of Monika’s fitful wake. 

Monika considered crawling into the chair with Fayce, considered wrapping her arms tight around the girl, as if to fight away the nightmares like a child would with a stuffed animal on the bedside. She wondered if that’d be too brazen. They’d slept huddled together a few times, and it was always a warming, comforting thing, one Monika found herself wishing for every night. Yet maybe it had been just for the warmth. Winter was upon the city, and they did spend a lot of time sleeping outdoors with the snows and winds. What would Fayce think if it happened indoors, for no other reason than the comfort? 

Before she could make any decision, however, she heard stirring from the second floor. The slam of a cabinet, water running through pipes for the sink. Monika needed to briefly walk about anyway, to help stir her mind away, so she climbed to her feet and sleepily stumbled over to the base of the stairs. Sayori was the only person up there, and Monika was alarmed when she heard a quiet, muffled whimpering carrying through the hall. She slowly climbed the steps, and caught a glimpse of Sayori’s silhouette limping back to her bedroom. Monika followed. She saw the box of gauze thrown on the bathroom floor as she passed by it, now empty. 

The door had been closed again. She put her ear to the cold wood. On the other side, she heard the whimpering intensify into racking sobs and dry coughs. Monika tentatively raised a hand, and softly knock on the wood. The sounds stopped, and Sayori sniffled a quiet “come in.”

The light was off inside the messy room. Sayori was curled up on her bed, her knees hugged to her chest, her tangled hair spread out around her head. Even in the shroud of dark, Monika could make out the wet tears staining the mattress sheet. She lifted her head only slightly. 

“Are you ok?” Monika asked. A stupid question. It was plainly obvious to anyone that Sayori wasn’t doing ok. But if offered a gateway, a chance for her to accept Monika into the room, to vent or cry with her, or to reject her. 

“Fine,” Sayori replied, lowering her head back down to the bed. She sniffled. 

Monika crossed her arms. “I don’t think so,” she said, as soft as her voice would allow. 

Sayori flinched. “Really. It’s ok. You can go back to sleep. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re my friend,” Monika said, shaking her head. “I’m gonna worry. You’re clearly not ok. Please, let me help.”

“But I’m…” Sayori sobbed more. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t know.”

Monika took it as acceptance. She stepped forward and took a seat on the edge of the bed. She patiently waited for Sayori to continue. 

She took a moment. A long, stretched moment of silence, filled only by the fierce gusts of winter outside and Sayori’s pained crying. “I don’t know,” she repeated. “I mean, I  _ should  _ be ok, right?”

“You don’t have to be,” Monika replied. 

“But I should!” Sayori took a deep breath. “I’ve been so sad because I don’t have any friends and I can’t go out, and today I finally get to have both! I had fun, too. Really. I was happy for most of the day. And then…” She cried some more, and Monika resisted that all to familiar urge to reach out. 

“There’s no rule saying that everything has to be ok,” Monika reiterated, a bit more intently this time. 

“But I don’t understand. Why is it that I can’t just be  _ happy?  _ Why does everything have to be ruined by some stupid thought that won’t go away?” Sayori rubbed her eyes. “You and Fayce did so much for me. You didn’t have to take me with you, but you did. And Fayce bought us dinner, and even wanted to buy me gifts, and here I am totally useless to you two. I can’t do  _ anything _ but be a burden.”

Monika couldn’t stop herself from pulling closer then. She reached out, wrapped a gentle hand around Sayori’s arm. She didn’t flinch. “You’re not a burden,” Monika said. “I couldn’t do much for Fayce either today. But she brought me anyway. Hell, that’s usual. I’ve never spent a cent in her company, and she covers every expense, and buys me all the gifts, while I can’t do anything in return but be her friend. But being her friend is  _ enough.  _ Friendships aren’t about buying things for each other or doing a certain amount of things, it’s about appreciating each other and wanting to be around each other.” 

Sayori took a shaky breath. “How can my presence be something you  _ want?  _ I mean, I kinda ruined the night toward the end. Sulking was stupid. I shouldn’t have shut down like that. I shouldn’t have been tired all of a sudden, or wanting to go home.”

“It’s fine,” Monika firmly insisted. “Seriously, Sayori. We loved having you along. Fayce even said you were nice.”

Sayori shifted, leaning against her pillows and propping her back up. She was being careful with her padded foot now. The bandage work on that foot was messy, much sloppier than the way Monika had seen it in the morning. “I…” she started, but stopped. Her blurred eyes stared at the wall, unfocused. 

Monika spread out beside her, still keeping a comfortable distance. Sayori did flinch at that, though. “Sayori,” Monika said, drawing her eyes. “I know you’re still dealing with certain things. I certainly am, too. Don’t be sorry for it.”

“But I should be happy,” Sayori said. “I have no reason to be sad. Everyone goes out of their way to do things for me, even when they shouldn’t, and I can’t appreciate any of it, and it makes no sense and I know it makes me awful but I don’t know what to do about it and-”

Sayori broke down again. Her small form was rocking and shivering with sobs and cries, and she collapsed against Monika. Monika wrapped her arms around her, gently holding her through the crisis, patiently waiting out the storm, while Sayori cried and mumbled nonsense through unsteady breathing and bouts of tears. Monika didn’t know how much time had passed when it finally died down. Sayori didn’t pull away. 

“I’m sorry,” Sayori mumbled. 

“Stop being sorry,” Monika softly reassured. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

Sayori choked back a whimper, and squeezed further into Monika’s side. She didn’t say anything. Monika fell back to sleep listening to Sayori’s light heartbeat and steadying breaths. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't predict when the next entry will be up. Just don't be surprised if it's a while from now. I can't write properly when sick and my schedule is soooo packed.


	12. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, exams are over and my summer has begun in earnest. Since I take summers off, that gives me soooo much more time to write! So, here's something to get us back into the groove of things...
> 
> However, I really need to be honest here. I'm kinda losing interest in writing this series. I'm not abandoning it! I've got the entire thing plotted out and it's just a matter of putting it all into words and scenes, but when I work on this, I find myself just wanting to work on something else. I've been using my empty schedule to brainstorm new ideas, and I've been working on a wonderful new series that I'm really excited to show off, since it stays true to the characters in the game a bit more and incorporates my finer points of writing, like horror and mystery elements. Plus, I have another series in progress that I'm trying to get off the ground. 
> 
> Basically what I'm trying to say is that I'm gonna be wrapping this up soon. Which means, only expect a few more entries. I've beaten the plot out to be a bit more basic and shorter, but I don't think the quality has suffered 
> 
> Anyway, a big shout out to Microsoft for bricking my computer with their latest Windows update. Thanks for making me waste hours fixing my computer, and nearly giving me a heart attack over losing all my notes!

Sayori was seated at the edge of the bed when Monika awoke, absent of tears or sobs. Her deep blue eyes were fixed on the window and the world beyond, a musing expression painted on her face, and she didn’t react as Monika yawned and moved to sit beside her. They were silent for a moment. The world outside was lit by the pale morning sun, not a cloud in sight, and the cold winds howled through the window and blew snow off bare tree branches. 

“You know you can talk to me about whatever you’re thinking, right?” Monika said. 

Sayori yawned, an adorable little thing that reminded Monika of the old Sayori, the cheerful girl from years ago. “How can I?” she said. “I don’t even understand what I’m thinking. How could you?”

“Maybe I can’t,” Monika replied with a shrug. “But maybe it’ll help if you get it off your chest.”  Monika knew how awful it was to bottle feelings up inside, to lock them away and try to forget about them. She’d spent dark months doing just that, and it had only led to a terrible hell of her own making. She’d only begun getting better once she shared them with someone, first with her therapist, who helped her sort through them and begin to move forward, and now with Fayce, who always had reassurances at the ready, always comforting her whenever she needed shelter from the storm in her mind. Sayori needed someone like that. Whether it would be Monika or someone else didn’t matter, she just needed  _ someone,  _ otherwise…  _ well, we both know how that ends.  _

Sayori was hesitant. She dug her fingernails into the soft fabric of the comforter, and her eyes wouldn’t move from the outside world. “I don’t even know how to begin…” Sayori said. Similar words that echoed something Monika had said in this exact room. 

“That’s ok,” Monika said. “You have a therapist, right? Maybe you could ask them to help.” 

“No,” Sayori curtly said. “He doesn’t understand. He can’t help.” She sighed. “I kept trying to talk with him at first, but after a while I realized it was pointless. So I tried group out too, because maybe I could emphasize with other people’s problems, but no one else is like this. I just kinda sit there and stare at the wall for an hour now.” 

Monika knew the feeling, at least. Her first few sessions had been trainwrecks, marked by a silence that she couldn’t be broken out of. Her therapist had poked and prodded, and eventually succeeded at drawing out the storm inside. After that her sessions had morphed into tearful breakdowns as she released a torrent of built up emotions that desperately had clamored to be expelled, and then became something livelier, where they talked optimistically of potential futures. Sayori’s therapist must’ve failed in that regard. 

“Well, you have to talk to someone,” Monika softly said. “So maybe you can start with me, and we’ll go from there?” She had no clue how she’d handle it, but the least she could do was listen. 

“I don’t know,” Sayori replied. “I just wish I wasn’t so… like this. A burden. I have no reason to be, and yet I can’t help it. Everyone provides everything for me, and I’m so stupid and selfish…” She was bouncing her injured foot against the floor. “Anyone else would be happy to have all of this care and attention. Not me.”

There was that familiar urge now, that feeling rising from the back of Monika’s mind that was seeped in old memories and attractions, that aching desire to reach out and touch Sayori, to hold her close and tight and tell her everything was going to be ok. She had to suppress it, as usual. If Sayori wanted that kind of comfort, then she had to reach out first, not Monika, otherwise this could only be made worse. She did reach a tentative hand over and set it on Sayori’s knee, though, stopping the bouncing of a foot that needed rest and healing. Sayori flinched at the contact, and almost shrinked away. 

Monika  _ wanted  _ to help. She’d seen so much over the past two days, an agony that Sayori didn’t deserve to know or experience. The girl deserved a cheerful, bright life full of love and laughter, not a crushing hole polluted with thoughts that brought her over the thin edge.  _ It’s my fault, anyway.  _ No matter what Sayori tried to say, Monika held the blame for this. If she had just kept her stupid mouth shut, if she’d just snuffed out the feelings when she first noticed them, then none of this would ever happened. 

“You’re not a burden,” Monika insisted, not for the first time. It was time to take the conversation a different route, though. No matter what soft reassurances she would try to give, Sayori would only continue down this suffocating line of thought, the idea that everyone had this seething hatred of her deep down. “But maybe it is time to get some proper help. To start putting your life back in order.”

“I know, but how?” Sayori sniffled. “Everyone makes it sound so easy. It’s not like I’m trying to stay this way, but I don’t know how to stop!” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m unfixable. That I can’t put the pieces back together, or that the rain will always be there.” 

“No one’s unfixable,” Monika said. She hesitantly moved her hand to Sayori’s, softly taking it in her own and giving it a light, comforting squeeze. Sayori didn’t flinch at the contact. 

“I don’t know about that,” Sayori said. “But… I want to try. I don’t want to be like this forever.” Her voice was filled with resolve, and a determined glint flashed in the glow of her eyes. “I’ll have to talk to my mom and dad about finding a new therapist or something.”

“Good,” Monika said. “And anything you need, I’ll be here.” 

The sun’s bright light was streaming through the window, illuminating Sayori’s soft features. For only a second, Monika could ignore the rising, ever constant pain at the back of her head, as her gaze met the soft blue of Sayori’s focused eyes. Their hands were still intertwined, Monika’s fingers gently tracing the back of Sayori’s hand. The cold air had taken a sudden, comforting turn. Sayori timidly slid closer against Monika, almost like… 

Suddenly, Sayori snapped away, roughly pulling her hand free. She scratched at her arm and forced her gaze to the window. A deep shade of color was painting her cheeks, and she was silently bouncing her padded foot against the carpet. She gave a stressed grin. “You should uh…. Fayce’s still here, I think, and you should…”

“Yeah.” Monika looked to the floor, missing the absence of Sayori’s warming hand connected with hers. It was stupid anyway. Sayori was already confused and depressed enough without her throwing more fuel on the fire, and she’d just been talking about Sayori getting help.  _ Some friend I am.  _ She needed to bury those feelings deeper, no matter how painful it would be. If Sayori was going to get better, then Monika had to keep true to what she’d said yesterday, about not pursuing those attractions. 

Sayori was silent as Monika rose to her feet. She went to the door, slowly slid it open, and looked back over her shoulder. Sayori wasn’t moving. She was harshly scraping her fingers over her knees, and her blank gaze was glued to the outside world.  _ My fault.  _ “Coming?” Monika asked.

“In a bit,” Sayori replied, not looking away from the window. 

Monika sighed, then left the room, gently closing the door behind her. She slowly made the descent down the stairs. Heavy reverberation rang down the hall from the living room, alongside hushed curses and the muffled clicking of buttons, and Monika went into the living room to find Fayce on the recliner. She was wrapped in a blanket, and a plastic controller was held tight in her hands as her gaze was intently focused on the oversized TV on the wall. She didn’t even turn her head to acknowledge Monika’s entrance. The bassey audio from the speakers kickstarted Monika’s headache. 

“Good morning,” Monika said, seating herself on the couch. She’d left her phone on the coffee table.  _ Three missed calls.  _ She resolved to handle that later, and stuffed the thing back into her bag. 

Fayce muttered a “morning” under her breath, but her on screen character met a rather gruesome end, and she quickly let out a string of hushed expletives. “I hate this game.”

“Then why are you playing it?” Monika asked. She hadn’t played many video games before. Sayori had been a fan in the past, and attempted to draw Monika into the hobby, but it never clicked. 

“Because if I don’t beat it, then it wins!” Fayce replied a bit harshly.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yes it does.” Fayce jammed down a few buttons on the controller, then cursed again, having gotten her character back to a respawn screen. With a heavy sigh through gritted teeth, she stood up and switched the console mounted under the TV off, and slid back into her chair. 

“So…” Fayce cleared her throat. “How’s Sayori doing?” Her tone had taken a more serious turn.

Monika had no sufficient response for that. It was good that Sayori had resolved to get some help, but that didn’t mean her mood would suddenly be improved, and the way Monika had left her…

Monika scratched at her temples and sighed. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Well, what were the two of you talking about?”

“Getting her help,” Monika replied. “Her therapist isn’t helping, and she’s just sort of keeps bottling feelings up. I told her she can’t go on like that, and she agreed.”

“That’s good,” Fayce said. 

“At the same time…” Monika was scratching at her skin again. Her nails hadn’t been trimmed in a few days, and it was leaving behind red marks on her arm. 

She was thinking about it again. Those feelings, the ones that kept finding themselves rising to the surface, the same ones that only hurt Sayori. So long as they were present, how could she help? She’d loved Sayori at one point, as far more than a friend, and likely still did, but Sayori didn’t need to be at the brunt of those feeling anymore. Whether Sayori loved her back or not didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sayori wasn’t yet ready to accept them, or pursue them, not until she got better and fully understood them. 

For the briefest of moments, Monika wondered what Sayori was doing, trapped up in her room, alone with her thoughts. It drew up a terrible image, and Monika threw it aside, trying to ignore the possibility. 

“Moni?” Fayce was sat beside her on the couch now.  _ When did she move?  _ She’d gently moved Monika’s digging nails away, and had intertwined their hands together. Her mismatched eyes were staring back, flushed with concern, a look Monika was growing to resent. It was comforting to have someone looking out for her, but she was starting to understand how Sayori felt about being a burden. It was far too often that Monika had seen this look. 

“I’m fine,” Monika said. 

Fayce said nothing. She was wearing an expectant look, silently urging Monika to keep talking. 

For the first time, though, Monika found herself not wanting to discuss something with Fayce. It was hard enough that Monika was dealing with these surfacing feelings about an old friend, someone she’d known most of her life, and that these feelings served only to cause pain, but now she was juggling them with a freshly grown love. Fayce didn’t need to hear about this. She didn’t need to know why Monika couldn’t help, why she was only causing more harm than good for Sayori. 

If she talked about it, she’d also have to mention these bloomed attractions, and she still found herself unable to word them aloud. The way Fayce still talked about Theresa…  _ What if I tell her, and she reacts badly as well?  _ If the feelings weren’t returned, then she’d screw up another close relationship. No, she’d learned her lesson to keep her mouth shut about these things. 

“It’s nothing,” Monika said, turning away from prying eyes that dug for the truth. 

“Are you sure?” Fayce’s voice was laced with that familiar worry, and it stung. All she wanted to do was help, and Monika  _ had  _ to turn it away this time. 

Monika sighed. She promised she’d help Sayori any way she could, but it was up to Sayori to find the help she needed, from someone more capable of providing it, someone who wouldn’t ruin things because of nonsensical feelings. Monika couldn’t forget these feelings, but she  _ could  _ bury them away. Perhaps she’d have to do the same with her feelings toward Fayce. If it stopped things from being ruined, and helped keep these friendships alive, then that’s what Monika would do. 

“I’m sure Sayori will be down soon,” Monika said, trying to keep her voice strong. “She’s just dealing with some things this morning.”

“Oh.” Fayce blinked. It sent a stab of pain through Monika’s chest to shut her out like this, but it was necessary. Her grip on Monika’s hand went limp, and she withdrew, scooting slightly further down the couch. 

They waited a while, mostly in silence. The midday sun lit a cloudless sky, melting the remnants of snow on the streets. Monika had to be going home soon. She’d spent two days in the same clothes, away from home without her father really knowing where she was  _ though he probably doesn’t really care.  _ It would hurt to leave Sayori alone, but it would have to be done.  _ Plus it’s only three days until Christmas.  _

Sayori padded down the steps eventually. There was no trace of the morning’s gloom left, and she brightened the room with a smile and apologies for taking so long. She cheerfully went to the kitchen with promises of brunch. 

The moodswings were certainly a mix of concerning and impressive. Monika had always retained the same mood when dark clouds crowded her head, never switching until her problems could be properly addressed, but Sayori was seemingly capable of flipping a switch in her head and turning on a new mood. Monika dreaded what Sayori did to flip that switch. No doubt she was burying her feelings even further down, bottling up new thoughts and tossing them onto the pile, and while that was harmful in itself, Monika noted the way Sayori bounced her injured foot during the darker moments, as though craving the pain the same way Monika had craved carving into her own skin. 

However, the happy thoughts remained even as she treated Fayce and Monika to a stack of pancakes and sizzling bacon. Sayori watched Fayce’s reaction intently, the same way she did Monika yesterday morning, and took the compliments in stride with a hearty grin. 

“Well,” Fayce said as she pushed her empty plate aside and checked her phone, “I gotta be getting home soon. Presents to wrap and all, plus my parents don’t like me being out like this so close to Christmas.”

“Christmas?” Sayori blinked. “When’s that?”

Fayce raised an eyebrow. “In three days,” she replied. “Speaking of which, where are your parents? Do they not decorate, or do you guys just not celebrate?”

Monika recalled Sayori’s parents decorating their home for the holidays, something Monika had assisted with several times over the long years. She’d even spent a few Christmases with them, when her repulsive mother was too much to bear.. They’d been the only good holidays Monika could remember. 

“They’re out,” Sayori replied with a shrug. “I didn’t know we were that close to Christmas.”

“You didn’t know…?” Fayce giggled. “We were downtown yesterday, weren’t we? Like, surrounded by stores advertising the season?”

“They never said how close it was,” Sayori said. “Mom never said anything about decorating before they left.”

“So, no presents? Or holiday cheer?” Fayce’s brow rose comically higher. Her eyes were stained with a strange hint of rage, as though getting angry on Sayori’s behalf. “That’s awful!”

Sayori scratched the back of her neck, looking away with a small shrug. “I dunno. They might be back by Christmas, and maybe we’ll do something.”

“You don’t even know when they’ll be back?” Fayce crossed her arms and muttered something under her breath out of hearing. 

Sayori had mentioned her parents being away for a ‘business trip,’ though she didn’t explain the exact details of said trip. That was, at least, what triggered Monika into coming this far, to ensure Sayori wasn’t stewing alone so close to the holidays and in the middle of the bleak winter. She’d been so preoccupied with trying to discern what Sayori was thinking and feeling that she hadn’t even considered what her parents were doing. 

Monika’s memories of Sayori’s parents didn’t paint them as neglectful. Her mom had even tried to keep Monika away for the first visit, insisting it was for her daughter's protection, and Monika recalled bright afternoons spent in that isolated diner where she had once worked. As for Sayori’s father, he had spent much of his time working, but devoted much of his free time toward entertaining Sayori and ensuring she wanting for nothing.  _ What’s changed?  _ Potentially not even being home for Christmas, not paying attention to Sayori’s struggles with therapy… it certainly  _ seemed  _ neglectful. 

Sayori’s smile was glum. She picked at the wood of the table with a fingernail. “I’ve never really been big on Christmas anyway,” she said, though her voice was low and dejected. 

Monika wanted to do  _ something.  _ Living an hour away was painful. She was reliant on Fayce to get here, or she’d have to steal more cash from her dad, something she desperately didn’t want to fall back on. She doubted she would be doing anything for Christmas herself, as her dad certainly had seemed to forgotten the holiday’s existence, so it seemed like an excellent idea to spent it with Sayori, but…

She failed to think of any reason why she  _ couldn’t.  _ All she had to do was go home, pack a bag for a few days, and she’d be set to spend the holidays trying to cheer Sayori up. Monika had said she wanted to try helping any way she could, after all.  _ But would Fayce be willing to go with it?  _ If she was to get home and then come back, she needed Fayce’s support, otherwise she only had a way to get home. 

_ But what if I only make things worse?  _ Monika thought of the way she’d left Sayori earlier, the way she kept letting her guard down and acting on feelings she needed to suppress. She’d already spent two days with Sayori, and they only grew harder to push back under the static ocean in her mind. If they kept growing stronger and Monika kept failing to resist them, it could turn the holiday week into a complete disaster. 

No. If Sayori wanted Monika to help, she’d need to ask. Monika wasn’t going to force her help onto Sayori, and wouldn’t chance making things harder. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Fayce asked, brushing a stray strand of hair from Monika’s forehead. She flinched at the contact. 

“Only wishing that there was an easier way to get here,” Monika said, only partially telling the truth. She wasn’t going to spill her guts, but she could at least share that. 

Fayce hummed. “Any solutions?”

_ The car.  _ The old beater that still miraculously worked was certainly an avenue. The issue what actually operating the thing. Monika knew the basics of driving as well as anyone who’d never been behind the wheel, but that wasn’t nearly enough to make an hour’s drive back and forth. She needed to learn. 

“My dad has an old car in the garage he doesn’t use,” Monika replied. “But I don’t know how to drive it.”

“Oh!” Fayce smiled. “So you totally need me to help, right?”

It wasn’t like anyone else could teach Monika. She nodded an affirmation. “My dad’s so busy these days, and I don’t know if he’d even help if I asked him. And you’re the only friend I have that knows how to drive…” That she knew of, anyway. 

“Well, I don’t know how great of a teacher I am,” Fayce beamed, “but I can teach you.”

Sayori’s eyes were bouncing between the two of them, laden with unreadable feelings. “Well,” she said, finding her old brightness again, “it would be nice to have someone who can visit me freely.”

“Right!” Fayce seemed as though she was genuinely excited for this. “How about we consider it a Christmas gift?”

“Driving lessons a gift?” Monika chuckled. Yet it seemed… nice. The only effort Fayce seemed to put in her other gifts involved spending money downtown, and the most strenuous part of that was just making the walk to the stores. This, however, required a bit of dedication. Monika wasn’t exactly the easiest to teach new skills to, either. 

“Certainly,” Fayce replied. “Maybe I can even teach Sayori.”

Sayori’s eyes widened in surprise. “Me?” She laughed. 

“It’s kinda something people need to know around here, anyways,” Fayce replied. 

“I don't have a car.” Sayori twirled a lock of short hair in her finger, musing on the topic. 

“And?” Fayce practically burst out of her seat. The excitement was borderline infectious. It was a strange thing to get pumped up about, though. 

“Where are you going?” Monika asked.

“Well, the best time to start this is now, right?” Fayce spun around, and snatched her bag hanging off the back of the recliner. “C’mon. Monika, at least, should start now.”

“Um,” Sayori was holding back a fit of laughter. “And I go after?”

“Of course.” Fayce grinned. “Seriously, let’s go!”


End file.
